When The Night Falls On You
by kaylamoonshoes
Summary: In 1949 in Laramie, TN, Blaine Anderson, a precocious six year old, meets a new friend named Kurt Hummel. They grow to realize they may have feelings for each other and hide it from the world, but Blaine's father discovers their secret. By their mid-20's, they find each other as a soldier and an outspoken hippie. Can they reconnect and rekindle those hidden feelings for each oth
1. Chapter 1

**yeah, yeah, yeah, new story, all that. It's set between 1949 and 1970. Kurt and Blaine are childhood friends in a time where war is tearing through the nation. When the boys start to grow up, they start to grow feelings for one another. How will this play out as they reach the hippie generation and Kurt gets drafted? Who knows? Well...I do :) but still...**

**Warnings for this story: language, racial trends, homophobic language, sexual situations in later chapters, smut in later chapters. **

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**Part one: Childhood**

**Chapter 1: New Kid in the Neighborhood**

Blaine Anderson's bare toes scraped at the dirt under his feet on the curb by his home in the quiet little town of Laramie, Tennessee. Like every day since his mother recieved the telegram saying his father was finally coming home from Korea, he had sat there on that curb, barefoot, dusty and dragging lines in the dirt with a stick or a rock waiting on his father to pull up and lift him up in his arms again. It had been two years since he had last seen his father. The second world war took him off to Germany, then Korea. He wrote Blaine letters telling him all about the Nazis and the Japs and how America wasn't going to let them get away with it. It gave Blaine a small warm feeling in his little stomach- his dad was a superhero.

"Blaine, sweetie?"

Blaine glanced up through his curly black hair to see his mother Jeanette gliding toward him with a glass of iced water. Another warm feeling he got was from seeing his mother. She was beautiful, dark-skinned and had the sweetest singing voice he had ever heard. They weren't from Laramie originally. His father ended up having to move the family from Ontario, Canada, and, though Blaine was too young to know it when they first moved, the two places were two different worlds.

"Ella is gonna watch you for a while. I've gotta go to the store. What are you doing out here anyway?" she pushed his curls away from his forehead to examine his sad brown eyes.

"Just waiting on Daddy," he answered, his little voice rasp from lack of use. Jennete gave him a sympathetic smile. She had watched the little boy from the window for the past two weeks sitting on that curb, barely speaking to his mother or the maid, waiting for her husband to return. It would have been very sweet if she didn't know more about his daddy than he did. She couldn't explain to him that he wasn't going to be the same daddy he was when he left.

"He's still coming home, right, Momma?"

"Oh, of course, baby," she smiled and kissed his nose, making his mouth quirk up into a small smile. "Why don't you go inside in a few minutes. It's hot as Hades out here."

Blaine giggled when she tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, her long nail tickling the back of his neck. "Ok."

Jeanette gave her son the glass of iced water and headed to the car, saying something to Ella on the porch before hopping in and backing out of the drive way.

"Blaine, honey, come eat somethin'," Ella called after him, her hands on her large hips. Ella was their 'help', as Blaine's momma had taught him. She said the word 'maid' was a little too Old South. There were other maids on the block and all over the state, but Blaine's daddy might have mentioned that Ella probably gets paid a little more. The only reason they had help was because Blaine was sickly as a baby and once he got a little better, he wouldn't let his parents get rid of her. Ella was his best friend.

"I'm not hungry, Ella," Blaine turned back around and rested his elbow on his knee, his chin on his hand, and continued to draw circles and shapes in the dust.

"You're gonna turn into a skeleton if you don't eat, boy," she warned him as she always did.

"I'm gonna come inside in a minute, I promise. Just a few more minutes?" he looked up through his eyelashes at her. She gave him a defeated look.

"I always said them eyes could turn the Devil himself away," she chuckled and shook her head. "Ok, five more minutes, then you better come eat somethin'."

Blaine nodded and returned to his previous position. He stared down the road, taking in the other houses that all seemed to look the same minus all the little things in the yards that made them unique. Mrs. Carlton's yard had a little baby swing and a canopy bench under a shade tree. Her husband was coming home from the war, too. Over in Benny and Jacob's yard there were toy trucks and four wooden planks set in a diamond where they and Blaine would play baseball with a stick and and whatever spherical object they could find to make a ball. The only house void of any originality was the one directly across the driveway from Blaine's. It had been empty for a few months since the Crabtrees moved to Virginia to live with Mr. Crabtree's sick mother. Blaine knew a lot about the neighbors from his mother's weekly book club meetings. All the ladies from the neighborhood and church would meet in their living room, drink tea and talk about people. Blaine never once saw them open a book.

At the sound of tires crunching, Blaine sat up so quickly his stick snapped in his hand. A beat-up pick up pulled into the driveway across from his, Woody Guthrie drifting through the open windows. The momentary elation he felt at the thought of his father coming home sank in his chest when the man who stepped out was wearing a dirty cap and overalls over a plain white shirt. He was talking to someone that Blaine couldn't see in the cab and starting to untie the tarp covering the pile in the back.

The passenger door swung open and a little boy hopped out onto the concrete, clutching a doll. Blaine tilted his head, studying the little boy closely. He was dressed like he was going to church or somewhere fancy, but his father wasn't. Did he always dress like that? He wore a clean white short sleeved shirt that he had buttoned up and tucked into some clean khaki shorts. Black suspenders hooked around his shoulders. His hair was neat and tidy, the barely there breeze in the air tossing one stray lock over his forehead. Blaine was entranced. This may have been the prettiest boy he had ever seen.

Blaine shook his head and dropped his stick on the ground. He had heard stories about boys who thought boys were pretty and he didn't want to be that way.

"Hey there, little man," the boy's father (Blaine guessed) called to him, a huge smile on his face. He didn't sound like he was from around here. "Hope you don't mind havin' new neighbors."

The little boy stood close to his father, the china doll in his hands clutched to his chest. The icy blue eyes were staring straight at Blaine in curiosity.

"This is my son, Kurt," the man gripped the boy's shoulder. "He's seven. How old are you?"

Blaine stood up, remembering his manners. "Six and a half."

The man laughed. "Oh, you can talk."

"Sorry. Momma says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"She's right. We're just gonna move our stuff in. Maybe you could keep Kurt company."

Kurt tightened his grip on the doll and slid in behind his father's leg. Ella came outside.

"Blaine, it's been five minutes," she came into the yard and stopped, nodding a hello to the new neighbor.

"Oh, hello, mam," he smiled politely and waved a hand. "Just getting to know our new little neighbor. I'm Burt Hummel and this is my son, Kurt."

"Well, hello there, sweetpea," she smiled at Kurt. Kurt furrowed his brow and slid a little further back. "Shy little thing, inn't he?"

Burt laughed. "Yeah."

"Well do you think he might want a peanut butter and bananna sandwich?"

"Ella makes really good sandwiches," Blaine told him. Kurt glanced down at his shoes.

"Go on, son, it's ok," Burt rubbed his back. "You haven't had lunch and I need to unpack."

Blaine quickly looked both ways down the road and trotted across the street on the balls of his feet, the hot street burning his bare toes. When he reached the two neighbors, he held his hand out.

"I've got Lincoln Logs. I like to build stuff. We could try and make the house on the box."

Kurt stared at Blaine's hand, then at Blaine. Blaine felt his stomach flip a little when he noticed the little boy looked like he was about to cry. Kurt chewed on his bottom lip, then took Blaine's hand quietly.

"Come on, then," Ella called to them and started back into the house.

"See you later, Kurt. Be good," Burt reminded him and with one last look back at his dad, Kurt followed Blaine into his house.

* * *

Kurt nibbled on his sandwich while Ella and Blaine talked about this and that. Kurt had never been around black people before, but he was starting to really like Ella. She was large, funny, and made the best sandwich he had ever tasted. Blaine occasionally glanced at Kurt, making sure he wasn't about to cry again.

His eyes were shining like he wanted to, but Blaine didn't know why.

"You need a bath, Blaine Anderson," Ella wrinkled her nose at his dirty fingers while his ate his sandwich. "Why little boys wanna play in the dirt, I'll never know."

"I don't like baths. The water gets cold and my fingers get all wrinkly," he said through a mouth full of sandwich. Kurt couldn't fight the little giggle that bubbled up in his chest. It was the first noise he had made and it startled the other two a little.

"Do you like baths?" Blaine asked Kurt after finally swallowing his sandwich.

Kurt looked a little confused at the question, but nodded anyway.

"How come?"

Kurt shuffled his feet a little, then answered, "Momma used to always give me a bath..."

There was the look again- the one like he was gonna cry. Ella caught it before Blaine did.

"You ok, sweetpea?"

"My momma died last week. My nana lives here, so we had to move away."

Ella clicked her tongue sadly and sat down in the chair by Kurt. "I'm sorry, honey. But you know you still got your daddy. I'm sure he'll be around for a long time to make sure you get a bath."

Blaine smiled sweetly at Ella. She always knew what to say to make people feel better. Kurt blinked his eyes of tears and gave her a small, crooked smile.

"Daddy said she's in Heaven now."

"And she's gonna watch over you like your own angel. She ain't really gone. Just somewhere else."

Kurt nodded. "Thanks, Miss Ella."

Ella wiped a little tear off his cheek and stood up. "You want some more milk, sweetpea?"

Kurt shook his head. Blaine handed her his glass when she asked for it, but he kept watching Kurt as he started to eat a little more. He liked this new boy.

When Jeanette came home, she heard two distinctly different giggles coming from the living room. She peaked around the corner to see Blaine and a little boy talking in whispers about the little wooden frame they had constructed in the floor.

"Ella?" she asked when she entered the kitchen, placing the grocery bags on the counter. "Who's that little boy playing with Blaine?"

"New neighbor, Mrs. Anderson. The Hummels. Nice, nice folks," she started unloading the vegetables.

"Well, that's wonderful. Maybe we can invite them over dinner sometime. Maybe Mrs. Hummel would like to join the book club," she started excitedly. She loved new faces.

"Ain't no Mrs. Hummel, mam. She died last week."

Jeanette let out a small gasp and glanced back toward the living room. "Oh, wow."

"That little boy in there is Kurt. He's shy, but Mister Blaine's charmin' the pants off of him," Ella laughed. "They been in there playin' for almost an hour just a-gigglin'."

Jeanette smiled. "It got him away from that curb, I suppose."

Ella's face fell to a serious look. "Mrs. Anderson...when you gonna tell him?"

Jeanette's smile fell. "Ella...it's not like John's dead or anything...just..."

"Mean-hearted? Cold? A drunk?"

"Stop that, Ella," she said sternly. "The war was hard on him. If he just gets home and settles back down, he'll be the man I love again."

Ella sighed and turned back to Jeannette. "I love Mr. Anderson, too, but if he ever lays a hand on that little boy-"

"I know, Ella...it's going to be ok. I won't let anything happen."

Two sets of feet running into the kitchen halted their conversation. "Momma, can me and Kurt have a cookie?"

"'Kurt and I'," she corrected him. "And not until you introduce me," she offered him a smile.

"My name's Kurt," he spoke up, his high, clear voice melting her heart. "We just moved here from Ohio."

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Kurt," she put out a hand for him to shake, which he did. "How would you and your father like to come to dinner tonight?"

"Gee, I'll have to ask him, but that sounds great," he answered politely.

"Well, I'm giving Mister Blaine a bath first," Ella wagged her finger at Blaine, who groaned loudly and slid down onto the floor, making Kurt laugh out loud. "So you run on home and tell your daddy to come on over around seven and I'll have him somethin' good to eat."

"Thank you. I'll tell him," Kurt smiled and looked down on the floor at Blaine. "Have fun in the bath."

Blaine stuck his tongue out at Kurt and watched as the giggling boy ran out of the house toward his own.

"So, you made a new friend, sweetie?" Blaine's mother lifted him up off the floor and kissed his dirty cheek.

"Yep. He's really fun. And pretty smart, too! He helped me make the house on the Lincoln Log box!"

Jennete laughed and put him down. "Well, go with Ella and get nice and clean before our guests arrive."

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**can you taste the sweet sugary taste in your mouth? fluffy... :D**

**more to come that's not so fluffy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the feedback! Here's some more for you! AYE!**

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**Part 1: Chapter 2- Daddy's Home**

"That was a wonderful meal, ladies," Burt sat back in his seat at the Anderson's dinner table. "I can't tell you the last time I had a good home cooked meal."

"It was all Ella," Jeanette doted on her. "I could burn water on a stove," they all laughed.

"Come on, Kurt, I'll show you my box cars," Blaine took Kurt's hand enthusiastically and started to lead him away.

"Blaine...manners," Jeanette reminded him. Blaine said a silent 'oh' and sat back in his seat. "Momma, may Kurt and I be excused to go play in my room?"

"You may," Jeanette smiled and nodded. Blaine resumed dragging Kurt, who giggled behind his hand at the exchange, and led him up the stairs to his room.

"That boy...he's a precocious little thing," Jeanette shook her head.

"Well, he's struck a chord with Kurt. I haven't seen him smile so much since his mother got sick," Burt ran a hand over his bald head.

"If you don't mind me asking, Burt...what happened?"

"They said it was natural, but she had been feeling pretty sick for a few weeks. About a week or so ago, I came home from work..." he swallowed hard. "Kurt was sitting with her on the couch, shaking her and screaming at her...she said she would be ok to watch him for a while..."

Burt sniffed and straightened up. "My mother lives just outside of town and said we should be close by, so we packed up and moved down here. The kid hasn't said two words since she died, but your kid seems to be getting through to him."

Jeanette wiped her eyes and covered Burt's hand with hers. "Well, if you two ever need anything, you just let us know. My husband is due home any day now from Korea and I'm sure he'd agree."

Burt nodded. "Thank you. We're gonna be ok, though. Kurt's tough like his mom. He's gonna keep me going. We should really get home."

Jeanette led him up to Blaine's room to find the two boys lying facing each other long ways on their stomachs on the floor, pushing two little wooden cars around,  
Blaine making engine noises and commentating some sort of race they seemed to be having. The little car crashed into the corner of the rug and Blaine made an explosion noise, rolling over on his back with his tongue sticking out. Kurt laughed, his face turning scarlett from laughing so hard.

"Kurt, buddy, it's time to go home."

"Do we have to, Daddy?" Kurt whined.

"'Fraid so. You and Blaine can play tomorrow, though, if that's alright with Mrs. Anderson."

"Kurt's always welcome," Jeanette smiled. Kurt sighed and he and Blaine stood up off the floor.

"See ya tomorrow?" Blaine asked hopefully.

"Sure," Kurt smiled and followed his father down the stairs.

With a final thank you for the dinner, Burt and Kurt headed out of the house. Blaine let his mother brush his teeth and changed his pajamas after Ella went home for the night.

"So did you and Kurt have fun today?"

"Yeah, we raced cars and built a house and...uh oh!" Blaine hopped off the bed before his mother could finish buttoning his pajama shirt and picked up the china doll Kurt had brought over. "Kurt left this over here."

"Oh, well, I'm sure you could give it to him tomorrow," Jennete felt a little confused as to why a seven year old boy would own a doll.

"Yeah, I guess. He really likes it. He didn't put it down all day," Blaine fiddled with the brown hair framing the doll's face. Jennete finished dressing Blaine and tucked him in. With a kiss goodnight, she picked up the doll and placed it on Blaine's nightstand and flicked off the lamp.

Blaine lay in the bed, remembering all the fun he had with Kurt that day and thinking about how his heart would hurt every time he took Kurt's hand. Blaine knew what love was- or what his mother had described it as. Love was when you looked at somebody and your hands would get all sweaty and you would get butterflies in your stomach. Blaine also knew that he was supposed to love girls. When he was around Kurt, however, he felt all of those things his mother would use to describe love.

Blaine turned his head and looked at the doll on his nightstand. He reached over and took it, holding it to his chest and breathing in. The doll's clothes smelled like apples. A lot like Kurt. Blaine's eyes finally slid closed and, with Kurt's doll clutched to his chest, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

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"MOMMA!"

Burt startled awake at the sound of his son screaming down the hall in his room. He slid out of bed and hurried toward Kurt's room to find the little boy thrashing in his sheets, shaking and muttering for his mother to wake up. It wasn't a new sight. It had happened far too often since they lost Kathryn.

"Kurt, son, wake up," Burt gently pulled his son to his chest, stroking his hair comfortingly. Kurt continued to whimper and sob, shoving against Burt in his half-consiousness.

"Daddy, Momma won't wake up-"

"It's just a dream, bud. Sssh, calm down," Burt bit back his own tears while he rubbed his son's back to calm him down. Kurt finally eased his heavy breathing, but he cried for almost 30 minutes, quietly begging his mother to come back.

"Why can't she come back, Daddy? I want her to come back."

"I know, Kurt, I know," Burt kissed Kurt's head and pulled him tight to his chest. "I wish she could, too, but she's in Heaven. Remember? Pastor Lawrence told you that God was ready for her to be an angel, so she had to go."

"Heaven doesn't need her! I do!"

"You'll understand one day, Kurt, I promise."

"I can't find her doll, Daddy. I told her I would take care of it and I lost it," Kurt started to cry a little harder, looking around on his bed for the china doll.

"We'll find it tomorrow, Kurt, I swear. You need to get some sleep." Burt kissed Kurt's head and picked him up in his arms, carrying him down the hall while he sniffled and clutched at Burt's t-shirt. He lay him down on the bed and climbed in with him.

"I'm right here, buddy. I'm not gonna go anywhere. I'll never leave you, I promise," he chanted to his son as he trembled against his chest. "I love you, Kurt."

"Love you, too, Daddy," he answered smally. Even after Kurt finally settled down and fell asleep, Burt lay awake, tears streaming down his face.

"Why'd you have to go, Kathy?" he asked into the open room over his son's even breaths. "I can't do this alone."

* * *

"Ok, so you take the worm and you put it on the hook," Blaine stuck his tongue between his lips in concentration, demonstrating how to easily stick the hook into the wriggling worm between his fingers. Two weeks into their new-found friendship found Blaine and Kurt as thick as theives. They played together every day while Burt went to town to find work. They practically lived outside in the front yard or down by the river.

"Gross," Kurt wrinkled his nose. "You're gonna kill it?"

"Well, you gotta to catch a fish," Blaine said obviously. They were down the street on the bank of the river, huddled over a hook attatched to one of Blaine's fishing poles. Ella sat at the top of the hill in a chair with a paper fan, watching in amusement.

"Um...I think I'll just watch you do it," Kurt grimaced as Blaine finally ran the hook through the red worm and made a victorious noise.

"It's real easy," Blaine stood up and wriggled his toes in readiness. He held the cane pole in his hands and tossed the line out into the water. "Now, you see the cork? You gotta watch it 'cuz when it goes under the water, you gotta yank back to catch the fish on it."

"And it's fun?"

"Really fun! 'Specially when you get a big one. Ooh ooh, look!" Blaine lowered his voice and pointed at the cork bobbing up and down. "It's probably a brim. They usually play with it. That's what Daddy says, at least."

Kurt watched closely as the cork started to bob a little heavier and suddenly, it disappeared. Blaine pulled back on the pole and the line went tight. Out of the water leapt a small brim, still wiggling and fighting to get off the hook.

"I got one, Ella!" Blaine laughed and called up the hill to the maid. "See?"

"Wow...that was pretty neat," Kurt laughed.

"You wanna try?" Blaine asked, handing the pole to Kurt. After a couple of misses, Kurt finally snagged another small brim, earning a cheer from Ella and Blaine.

"When Daddy gets back, maybe he can take us to the big lake and we can camp out," Blaine helped Kurt get the wriggling fish off the hook.

"When is he coming back?" Kurt asked. Blaine shrugged.

"I don't know...Momma said he was still with the army but they sent a letter home saying he was gonna come home soon."

"Gee...I've never met a soldier before," Kurt said curiously. He had seen them on the news and at Christmas parades. He always thought they were like superheros.

After a few more catches, Ella helped them pack up the tackle box and they walked back to Blaine's. In the driveway was Blaine's mother's car and a car Kurt had never seen before.

"Daddy!" Blaine ran toward the house, almost dropping his tackle box. Sure enough, when Kurt and Ella got up to the porch, a man in a green uniform was smiling and hugging Blaine in his arms.

"You've gotten so big," John ruffled Blaine's curls. "I'm gonna have to put a brick on your head to keep you from growing."

Blaine giggled and hugged his dad again. Jeanette walked back in from the kitchen, seeing the forced smile on her husband's face.

"John, the shop closes in two hours. We better get a move on," she touched his shoulder. He jumped a little, but let out a breath and nodded.

"You're coming back, right, Daddy?" Blaine asked, almost bouncing on his toes.

"Yeah, I am," he nodded. "Be good for Ella, ok? Oh," he noticed Kurt standing in the door with Ella. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh! That's Kurt. He lives across the street. He's never met a soldier before," Blaine ran over and pulled Kurt inside. "Kurt, this is my daddy."

"Nice to meet you, Kurt," he took in the boy's too-tidy clothes. "You been keeping Blaine busy?"

"Yes, sir," he answered softly.

"Well, I gotta get going. I'll see you later, kiddo," he ruffled Blaine's hair again and he and Jeanette walked out to the car.

Ella humphed and headed into the kitchen, leaving the two boys in the living room.

"Your daddy is nice," Kurt turned back to Blaine, whose smile was bright and wide.

"I missed him a lot. Maybe I'll ask him later to take us camping. You'll have so much fun!"

Kurt giggled and let Blaine lead him back outside to the front yard.

* * *

The next day, after begging his weary father to let him go over to Blaine's, he straightened his suspenders and headed across the street carrying his model airplane. He and Blaine hadn't quite finished it the day before, but he stayed up past his bedtime to glue the wings on and was very excited to try it out. When he got to the screen door, he knocked three times and waited for Ella to come and answer the door.

No answer came.

Kurt furrowed his brow and tried again. Almost immediately, the screen flew open and he stepped back quickly to avoid being hit.

"What?" Blaine's father leaned against the door frame. He looked worn out and smelled strongly of the rubbing alcohol Kurt's dad used on him when he fell and scraped his knees.

"I was coming to play with Blaine, sir," Kurt answered politely, his voice shaking a little at John's abruptness.

"Blaine can't play today. He's in trouble."

Kurt was confused. Blaine never got in trouble before.

"Oh...ok. When can he come play?"

"Hell if I know, now head back home," he slurred and shut the door harshly. Kurt jumped, his eyes burning a little with unshed tears. Blaine's father had seemed so nice the day before when he met him. With slumped shoulders, Kurt turned and slowly headed back down the steps.

"Pssst," he heard from up above him. He turned and saw Blaine poking his head out through his bedroom window.

"What did you do?" Kurt asked, keeping his voice down.

"I don't know...I promise I'll try to come play tomorrow," Blaine answered sadly. Kurt had never seen Blaine look so defeated...so sad.

"I finished our plane. Can we fly it tomorrow?"

"Heck yeah," Blaine smiled. He jumped and turned around. "Bye!" he called before slamming the window and running from the window. Kurt sighed and walked back home.

When he walked in, his dad was sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch.

"I thought you were gonna play with Blaine, kiddo."

"Blaine's in trouble. His daddy said he couldn't play...he was acting funny."

Burt furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday he seemed really nice, but today he yelled at me," Kurt sniffed. Burt sighed and pulled Kurt up into his lap.

"Don't think about it, ok? You and Blaine can play tomorrow. What do you say I take you to the garage with me? I gotta put a new belt on Mrs. Hudson's car."

Kurt sniffed and nodded, burying his head in his father's chest. Burt kissed his hair and lifted him off his lap to go put on his coveralls.

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**The next chapter gets heavy. WARNING: child abuse and homophobic language.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, so you guys have been really positive and it's awesome! here's more.**

**2nd Warning! child abuse, homophobic slurs, creys and fluffyness.**

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**Part 1: Chapter 3- Make Me A Bird**

"Daddy, stop it!" Blaine cried and ducked, missing his father's hand by inches.

"I told you you were in trouble!" John bellowed and reached to grab Blaine by the arm, pulling his hand back to swat him hard on the back of the thigh.

"I'm sorry, Daddy! I had to tell Kurt something!"

John shoved the little boy into the side of his bed and growled. "I don't give a shit what you had to do! You disobeyed me!"

Blaine trembled and shrank to the floor, covering his eyes and trying to pretend he wasn't there.

"You stay up here until your mother gets home. Don't even think about coming out of this room or talking outta the window to that little fairy, you got it?"

John stumbled out of the room and slammed the door, causing a picture of Blaine and his family to fall off the wall by the doorframe. Blaine buried his head in his knees and cried as quietly as he could, mindlessly rubbing his arm where his father had grabbed him. He didn't know why he was in trouble or what he did to make his father so angry at him. His mother was going to be so upset with him, whatever it was.

After a while, Blaine lifted his little head, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his hand, and stood up to grab Kurt's doll from his nightstand. He hadn't returned it to Kurt yet. He liked sleeping with it because it made him feel safe. Blaine curled up into a tiny ball on his bed, the doll held tight in his arms, and sniffled against the doll's brown hair. It still smelled like apples and if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that Kurt was there and they were playing together, smiling and laughing and running around playing chase.

Suddenly, Blaine remembered his father's words. He had called Kurt a fairy. Blaine knew what fairies were- small creatures with wings that lived in made up stories. Why would his father call Kurt a fairy? He said it so angrily and with so much hate that Blaine knew it wasn't something good and it made him cry even more.

Jeanette came home and his father's raised voice reached him from downstairs. They were arguing. Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to block out the shouting match, but his mother's sweet voice always broke through to him and he couldn't push it away.

"He's just a little boy, John!"

"He's fucking stubborn! And I don't want him running around with that little faggot-

There was another name. Why did he keep calling Kurt names? Blaine listened to his mother defending herself but the crack of skin on skin contact and a shriek was the last straw for Blaine. He hopped up out of the bed and ran out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where his mother was clutching her cheek and his father was towering over her, a beer clutched in his fist.

"Daddy, stop!" Blaine begged and punched at his father's legs, his face wet with tears.

"Why you little-" John started at him, but Jeanette ran over and scooped him up, carrying him back upstairs to his room.

"Blaine, sweetie, he told you to stay up here," she said shakily.

"He hit you," Blaine whimpered, clutching his mother's shirt.

"He's just having a hard time. The war was hard on him, honey," she shut his bedroom door and started to change him into his pajamas. Blaine looked down at his arm when her back was turned and saw a hand-shaped bruise forming around his upper arm. Jeanette caught it as well, stopping in her tracks with his pajamas in hand.

"Blaine," she breathed out, her voice thick with tears. Shaking her head, she pulled the little boy in for a hug.

"Momma, what's a faggot?"

Jeanette tensed and held Blaine out at arm's length.

"It's nothing, sweetie."

"Daddy said it. Was he talking about Kurt?"

"It doesn't matter. It's not true, ok?"

"But what is it-"

"Blaine, stop it," she demanded and he immediately closed his lips tight. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she said with a tear slipping down her cheek. "I didn't mean to get mad...I'll have Ella bring you up a sandwich before she leaves."

She finished changing him and quickly headed to the door.

"Momma?"

She stilled, her hand on the knob. Without turning to look at him, hiding her tears, she answered, "Yes, baby?"

"Does Daddy not like me anymore?"

Jeanette bit her lip, trying not to cry out loud. "Daddy loves you, Blaine. Always remember that."

She let out a shaky breath and left the room and her heartbroken son.

* * *

"Did you ever find out what you did?" Kurt asked a week later, the next time he was actually allowed to play with Blaine. Blaine's father had turned Kurt away each day he came after that first one and that day he finally let Blaine come outside, a smile on his face and his strong hand patting Blaine on the back and telling him to be good for Ella. They were back at the river sitting cross-legged on the ground and tossing pebbles into the water.

"Nuh uh," Blaine answered, flicking a pebble toward a stump near the edge. "He just said I wouldn't listen to him."

"About what?"

Blaine shrugged and sighed. "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"If it's ok with my Momma and Daddy, do you wanna spend the night?"

Kurt furrowed his brow in question. "Sure. I've never spent the night anywhere before, though."

"It's real fun," Blaine finally smiled. "We can make s'mores and play games and maybe make a tent in my room. It'll be great."

Kurt smiled. "Ok. I'll ask my daddy when he comes home. Maybe someday you can come stay at my house, too."

Blaine nodded. Kurt looked out over the water and Blaine continued to stare at the side of his face. Everytime Blaine thought about Kurt, he pictured an angel- much like the one in his kid Bible with the warm, rosy cheeks and the pale skin.

"You know...you look like an angel," Blaine finally said, making Kurt look back at him quickly.

"What?"

"I have this kid Bible at home with a picture of an angel in it...you kinda look like it," Blaine blushed a little, his ears going hot when Kurt smiled at him.

"Really?"

Blaine nodded.

Ella had been watching from the top of the hill on her blanket. She had heard their conversation and couldn't fight a smile. Blaine was a special little boy to her and she knew he was gonna be different from the rest of the world. Ella knew that Blaine liked Kurt before Blaine even knew it was something that could be and her heart swelled a little when she looked at Kurt and saw that he was not afraid or disgusted by what Blaine said. He was blushing and smiling. Maybe Kurt would be different, too.

* * *

It took convincing, but Blaine finally talked his parents into letting Kurt stay over, much to the dismay of his father. After mumbling something about getting a drink, he left for town just before Ella made them potatoes and porchops for dinner. The boys giddily ran upstairs and began construction on the sheet tent while Jeanette and Ella made them some s'mores and milk.

Ella heard the door shut upstairs and turned to Jeanette, who was heating some chocolate bark over the stove.

"Mrs. Anderson...can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, Ella," Jeanette smiled. Ella took off her apron and leaned against the counter next to her.

"I noticed somethin' today while the boys were playin' by the river...the way Blaine was lookin' and Kurt."

Jeanette laughed lightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mrs. Anderson...I think Blaine might like Kurt like he's supposed to like girls."

Jeanette dropped the chocolate bark on the stove. "What?"

"It's the damndest thing," Ella shook her head. "He told the boy he looked like an angel."

Jeanette quickly scooped up the chocolate and hurried over to the sink to wash her hand. "Ella, he's just being polite."

"Do he blush when he's bein' polite to everyone else?" Ella asked, placing a hand on her hip.

"Hush, Ella, you know that's not natural. How could you accuse my six year old of being a homosexual?"

"I didn't say that, now," Ella looked affronted. "And so what if he was?"

"It's not right," Jeanette whispered, leaning in for only Ella to hear. "You know what God said about the homosexuals, Ella."

"An abomination, mam, I remember. I ain't sayin' he is or ain't. I'm just telling you what I saw..."

Jeanette let the conversation die in the air and dropped her finished s'more on the plate to take upstairs. When she reached Blaine's door, she saw their outlines through the makeshift sheet tent they had thrown over some chairs and larger toys in Blaine's room. She didn't announce her presence right away, however.

"Are you really gonna move away to New York when you grow up?" Blaine asked Kurt, sounding sad.

"Yeah...but that's a long time from now. I'm not gonna leave yet."

"Good," Blaine giggled. Jeanette noticed something- just barely, however- when Blaine shifted. The boys were holding hands.

She cleared her throat loudly and they climbed out. "Oooh, thank you, Momma!" Blaine smiled and ran forward to get one. She smiled warily at him and placed them on the desk.

"If you boys need anything, let me know..." she said before trying to hurry out of the room.

"You wanna play with us, Momma? We're camping-"

"No, no, sweetie, I have to finish dishes," she gave him one last look and walked out of the room. When she was out of earshot she leaned against the wall,  
unable to even say the word in her head. He was only a child- six years old- and she could easily chalk it up to his precociousness and manners, but the burning feeling in her stomach told her that wasn't the case.

Blaine's eternal soul wasn't exactly the first thing she was worried about, however. When she heard the door slam downstairs and heard John slurring curses at Ella, she knew that his eternal soul would have to get through his father first.

* * *

Kurt started at the sound of glass breaking downstairs. John's raised voice carried up through the closed door of Blaine's room.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, shaking his friend awake next to him. Blaine mumbled in his sleep and pulled his stuffed rabbit closer.

"Blaine, your daddy's yelling at your momma," Kurt shook him again. Blaine sat up and, suddenly wide awake, ran to his door and threw it open. Kurt sat staring into the lit hallway as he heard Blaine's little raspy voice calling to his daddy.

"You're not gonna be a faggot, do you hear me?" John yelled and Kurt heard Blaine cry out. He was about to jump up out of the bed when he heard little footsteps running up the stairs and saw Blaine's outline slam and lock the bedroom door.

"Blaine?"

Blaine dove into the bed and curled up on the pillow, his body shaking and sniffles coming from the pillow.

"Blaine, what's wrong?" Kurt put a hand on Blaine's shoulder and a boom came from the door.

"Let me in, Blaine, I mean it!"

Kurt did the only thing that ever made him feel better when he was scared- he lay down next to Blaine and wrapped his arms around him tight, pulling him close. Blaine clung to Kurt's t-shirt. The wetness from his tears soaked into Kurt's shirt.

"It's ok, Blaine, I'm here," Kurt whispered into Blaine's curls and hugged his friend tight. Kurt almost cried at the sound of Blaine's scared whimpers. John continuously banged on the door until, finally, Jeanette came up and dragged him away from the door. They continued to fight into the night while Kurt held Blaine close. He stopped crying after a while and sat up, sniffling and holding his rabbit under his chin. In the moonlight, Kurt could just see the inflamed mark across Blaine's cheek.

"Did he hit you?"

Blaine nodded and buried his nose in the rabbit's ears. Kurt had never felt so mad in his life. He wanted to go down there and hit him back for hitting Blaine, but he was scared of John.

"Kurt?"

Blaine's voice was small and broken from the crying.

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"Can you promise me something?"

Kurt inched closer to Blaine. "Yeah."

"Promise that someday, you and me will go away. So far away that I never have to see my daddy again..."

Kurt's eyes burned with tears. Blaine leaned his head on Kurt's shoulder, his curls tickling Kurt's cheek. "Promise?"

Kurt nodded. "I promise."

* * *

**as if this week wasn't already traumatizing enough with Puck pulling knives, Nationals and NO Klaine interaction, I decided to make kid!Klaine suffer...ok, that's not the reason, but yea. this is just the beginning**


	4. Chapter 4

**aaaahhhh! yeah, I'm back. had some marital problems...you know...near divorce...but we're good. and i'm back with ya. ONWARD!**

* * *

**Part One: Chapter 4- Boys**

It continued for the next four years- Kurt staying with Blaine on Friday nights, waking up with Blaine's head on his chest and the stuffed rabbit wedged between them. They never spoke of the moments in that bedroom where Kurt would chase away Blaine's demons with hugs and whispered promises of redemption and through it they became even closer than ever before. Like brothers, they knew every little detail of each other and like friends they listened to every little problem the other had and tried to help the other in the best way they could.

By Blaine's tenth birthday, they had mastered the art of breaking into the other's room and Kurt would often wake up with Blaine in his bed and no recollection of how he got there, but it didn't bother him. Burt started to notice.

"How does Blaine get in your room, buddy?"

"The window," Kurt answered simply through a mouth full of cereal.

"Why doesn't he just use the door?"

"He comes in in the middle of the night. Sometimes I don't even remember it."

Burt furrowed his brow. "Any particular reason he keeps sneaking into your room?"

Kurt never spoke about John's abuse, helping Blaine cover up the bruises with lame stories about how they were rough-housing and it got out of hand or how Blaine tried to climb this tree or that rock and fell. At eleven, Kurt had more secrets than he cared to have.

"He just wants to hang out, that's all," Kurt shrugged and stood up to put his bowl in the sink.

"What aren't you telling me, Kurt?"

A honk sounded outside, making Kurt jump over to his chair and grab his satchel.

"School bus. See you later, Dad," he waved and headed out the door, letting out a sigh of relief. Burt had noticed before that something was up with Blaine,  
but he had never directly questioned Kurt about it.

Kurt headed toward the bus, eyes wandering the group filing in for Blaine. It had been a few days since Kurt and Blaine last hung out because Blaine's mom took him to Minnesota to visit his grandparents and he felt excited nerves at seeing his friend again. It had been a long few days without him.

"Kurt?" Blaine called to him. He turned and a laugh bubbled out of his chest.

"What got a'hold of your head?" Kurt reached up and ruffled what was left of Blaine's curls on top of his head. Blaine seemed to have gotten a pretty severe haircut. His long black curls were now cropped short on the top and the sides were trimmed to where his ears could be seen.

"Nana and a pair of scissors," Blaine shoved Kurt's hand away. "I hate it. I loved my hair."

"I can see your face now, though," Kurt joked and inspected it. "And you have ears."

"Ah, bite me," Blaine grumbled playfully and they stepped up onto the bus. This would be Kurt's last year in elementary school. In less than a month, he would be in junior high while Blaine finished out his elementary career. Neither one really talked about it much.

Settling into a seat in the back, they started rattling on as if they were never apart. Kurt ignored the bruise around Blaine's wrist as he went on about all the fun things he did with his Grandpa on his trip. A little giggle erupted from the seat in front of them after Blaine demonstrated fighting with a fish he had caught.

"Oh, Blaine...you're so funny," Rachel Berry peaked over the seat. Kurt rolled his eyes. Rachel Berry was one of his least favorite people- apart from Blaine's father- on the planet. She was full of herself, even at age eleven, and was very infatuated with Blaine. There was a rumor that her father Hiram was sleeping with someone else- a man named Leroy from Knoxville. The church had chased them out.

"Don't roll your eyes, Kurt, that's very rude."

"It's rude to interupt people when they're talking, too, Rachel," Kurt said snippily. Blaine sat back and looked between them. He was used to their spats.

"I was just listening and thought it was funny."

Quinn Fabray popped her head over the seat. "Come on, Rachel, leave those boys alone," she gave a small smile to Kurt and pulled her friend back down, but not before Rachel stuck her tongue out him.

"Man, she's annoying," Kurt said quietly enough for only Blaine to hear.

"She's not that bad," Blaine shrugged.

"You only think so because she likes you," Kurt nudged Blaine's shoulder.

"What about Quinn?" Blaine shoved back, grinning wickedly at Kurt.

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "Get outta here."

* * *

At school, they were seperated by grade, so Kurt headed toward the sixth grade building and Blaine to the fifth. Kurt took his seat next to Finn Hudson, a tall, gangly boy in his grade.

"Hey, Kurt. You're really good at crafts and stuff, right?" he fumbled desperatly in his bag.

"Um...yeah, I guess," Kurt peaked into the dirty book bag.

"Do you think Rachel will like this?" he pulled out a construction paper card with a glittery heart on it. Kurt couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"What? Help me out, man," Finn pouted.

"What is it with everyone loving Rachel Berry?" Kurt shook his head. "Ugh, ok, fine, let me see."

Finn smiled and with Kurt's help, they wrote a little note inside and removed the excess glitter to make it look more even. Finn clapped his shoulder when they were finished.

"Thanks, Kurt. I owe ya one," he climbed back into his seat. Kurt may have stared a little longer than he should have and might have just imagined- though he knew he hadn't- that his skin was tingling where Finn had touched him.

* * *

"I think I'm sick," Kurt mumbled as he and Blaine sat on the bank of the river, tossing rocks at passing fish.

Blaine looked at him. "Sick?"

"I got a weird feeling when Finn Hudson touched me today...now I feel all...weird."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrow and scrunched up his nose. "Like...when you think about him?"

Kurt sighed and fell back on the ground. "I think I need a shot."

Blaine snorted and fell back next to Kurt. "No, you just need to chill out. It can't be that bad."

"I mean...Finn's cool and all...he's my friend...I like his hair..."

Blaine turned his head to the side, gazing at the side of Kurt's face while he talked. "Do you think he's handsome?"

Kurt shot at look at him, one of surprise and shock. "Blaine, come on..."

"It's just a question, Kurt-"

"But boys don't ask questions like that...it's gross."

Blaine closed his mouth and turned his head away from Kurt. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Kurt sighed. "No, I didn't mean to get mad..."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, ears pricking slightly at the sound of the other shuffling or the water trickling down the rocks close by.

Finally, Blaine spoke up.

"You never answered my question, Kurt."

Kurt was fully aware that he hadn't. The answer was yes.

"No...I don't."

Blaine nodded. "Ok. Wanna go see if Ella will make peanut butter and banana sandwiches?"

Kurt swallowed and nodded. "Sure."

* * *

Blaine held on to the chair while his mother held the needle to his body.

"Momma, this is embarassing. Couldn't we do this later?"

"You've been outside all day and the pollen is bad this year," she scolded and pulled his pants down a little, exposing a small section of his butt.

"Why there, though? Why not on my arm or something?" he shot a glare at Kurt, who giggled behind his hand.

"They say it goes through your body faster, now hold still," she swatted his thigh. The needle pierced his skin and he let out a small hiss.

"After last month's scare, I don't want to take anymore chances, Blaine. Your doctor said you were very lucky we got you there on time."

The month before, Blaine had a cold. Nothing major- just the sniffles. He and Kurt were swimming in the river and Blaine didn't resurface. Kurt found him and pulled him out before he drowned, but he had passed out. His immune system had always been weak and his mother yelled at his still body as they drove him to the hospital that she had told him over and over to never go outside when he was sick.

"I'm fine, Momma...no sniffles," Blaine hurridly pulled his pants up and got away before she could stick him with anything else.

"I'm just trying to keep you healthy, sweetie. You'll thank me someday."

Blaine sighed and he tugged Kurt by the sleeve up the stairs to his room. Gone were the sail boats and light blue walls and in were plain white walls covered in drawings, records and black and white photos kept on the wall by Scotch tape.

"So now what? Momma will have a cow if we go back outside."

Kurt shrugged. "I've got cards in my bag."

"War!" Blaine pounded the air and plopped down crosslegged on the rug. Kurt laughed and dug his cards out of the satchel and they set up. Between mumbled 'shoots'  
and 'gotcha's, they talked about school that day.

"Quinn was staring at you in the lunch room," Blaine pointed out. Kurt shook his head.

"I couldn't tell because Rachel was babbling on about choir class. Mr. Shuester didn't give her a solo for the church concert next weekend-"

"Kurt...you're deflecting."

Kurt scrunched his nose and gave Blaine a weird look. "Where did you hear that word?"

"Momma always says I'm deflecting when she's getting on to me and I start talking about something else...I think Quinn likes you."

"I know she does...I just don't like her," Kurt scooped up the cards he had just won and placed them in his pile.

"Why? She's really pretty."

"I dunno," Kurt shrugged. "Just don't."

Blaine chewed his lower lip and glanced up at Kurt. "Well...do you like Finn?"

Kurt stared up at him, his eyes wide with surprise. "Shut up."

"You said last week you felt funny around him-"

"Blaine, shut up," Kurt started getting mad. "I don't like boys!"

"I wouldn't be mad at you-"

Kurt let out an angry sound and shoved Blaine back onto the rug. "I'm not a faggot!" Kurt jumped up and ran out of the room, down the stairs and out of the door before Jeanette could bid him goodbye. When he finally slammed his kitchen door, he realized he was shaking and crying.

Blaine sat, stunned with his palms planted back on the floor, on the verge of tears himself. Not at Kurt's outburst...but the word he used.

Blaine had heard it several times and knew what it meant. His father threw it around carelessly then spat it towards Hiram Berry...and towards Kurt. The word he knew was full of hate and degredation just came out of his friend's mouth and he shoved him. Blaine stood up and wiped his eyes, stepping over the cards to climb onto his bed.

"Blaine?" Jeanette's voice appeared at the door. "Is everything ok?"

"Fine, Momma," he said, stilling his voice.

"Ok. Your father's on his way home."

The knot in Blaine's stomach tightened. Kurt wouldn't want him to come in his room tonight for sure. It was gonna be a long night.

* * *

**There's a looooot left to this story! stay tuned.**


	5. Chapter 5

** Achievement for working at a hotel and jacking the wifi! Woo!**

**I'm gonna be moving my stories from here to my LJ account soon. All this deleting mess has me scurrd... like...all my stories are smutty...even this one is working it's way there...eesh. **

**i'll have that info for you soon, but for now::::: here's some cray cray drama and shit...**

* * *

**Part 1: Chapter 5- No Matter What**

For the next few days at school, Kurt sat by himself at the lunch table, occasionally glancing over at Blaine, then returning to his sandwich. Blaine had tried several times to speak to Kurt, but he ignored him. Blaine had never felt so alone as he had in those few days. His father had come home the afternoon he and Kurt fought and got onto him about being disrespectful to his mother that morning. The bruise on his back was, thankfully, easy to cover. He didn't sleep that night.  
He wanted so badly to climb out of his window and run over to Kurt's like he usually did, but didn't think Kurt would take too kindly to it after their fight.

After a week, Blaine saw Kurt after he stepped off the bus and headed toward his house. Blaine sighed and ran after him.

"Kurt...please talk to me..." he called after him. Kurt looked back, but didn't say anything. "I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Kurt's expression softened a little, but his body was still tense.

"I was just gonna say...I wouldn't be mad if you were...you know-"

"A faggot?" he finally answered softly.

"I hate that word," Blaine grimaced. "Momma says the real word for it is homosexual. I like that one better."

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned back around to walk up to Blaine. "Fine...I'm sorry I pushed you."

"I'm used to it," Blaine shrugged, voice going a little tense. "Dad hit me again..."

Kurt sighed and put an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Wanna come watch TV at my house?"

Blaine's heart finally unclenched and a smile broke out over his face. "Yeah...thanks, Kurt."

"You're still my best friend, Blaine. Forever, no matter what."

Blaine put his arm around Kurt and they walked toward Kurt's house, both feeling like they were whole again.

* * *

"Summer!" Blaine tore off the bus, tossing his bag onto the ground and falling face first into the yard. Ella was hanging laundry in the side yard, smiling and rolling her eyes.

"Get up, crazy," Kurt laughed and kicked his foot. "You can't build a treehouse lying on the ground!"

"Oh yeah!" Blaine hopped up and grabbed his bag. "We gotta get some stuff from my room, then we'll go."

"Blaine, you're daddy's home," Ella stopped him before he barreled inside. "Be careful what you take," she dropped her voice.

"Just getting a blanket and some stuff to put inside, that's all," Blaine shrugged and Kurt tenativly followed him inside.

John was sitting on the couch with a cigarette and a beer. It was easy to tell he had been at it all day. The door snapped shut after Blaine and he jumped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he roared, coming up off the couch.

"It slipped, Dad," Blaine stammered and Kurt backed up against the door. It was typical that loud noises set him off. Post-tramatic stress was what Jeanette called it.

"Watch what you're doing next time, you little shit," John shoved past him and out of the door. Kurt let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"You ok?"

Blaine nodded shakily. "Yeah...let's just go," he headed up the stairs, quietly, and they gathered up a blanket, some baseball cards, a couple of gloves and a ball, and an army helmet Blaine's father had sent him from Korea to take down to the river. Blaine seemed to perk up a little after they had gotten down to the bank and surveyed the tree they planned to use. Their tools were down by the bank already and they used pieces of wood from an old farm house across the river for their lumber.

"This is gonna be so cool," Blaine bounced on his toes as they dragged some of their pieces up to the edge of the tree and started mapping out the floor.

"You know how to do this, right?" Kurt asked hesitantly. "I've never done this before."

"Me and the Bakers over on Mitchell Street did this while you were at camp last summer," Blaine hoisted the sturdy wood onto two low-lying branches and climbed up the tree like a monkey. "Hand me that hammer and a nail."

Blaine set to work, occasionally giving Kurt instructions that he followed in haste, getting more and more excited as Blaine started getting walls up and a hole cut out to climb up through from below.

It took a few days, but after a lot of falls, curses, and smashed thumbs, they sat up in the wooden treehouse with a deck of cards and a cigarette between them.

"Your dad's gonna be pissed if he finds out you stole this," Kurt held the cigarette between his fingers.

"He won't notice," Blaine grumbled, trying to organize his cards in his hand. Kurt hacked hard after the first drag.

"Gross," he thrusted it back toward Blaine. "You can have it."

Blaine expertly plucked the cigarette from between Kurt's fingers and took a drag.

"How did you learn that anyway?" Kurt asked, still trying to get his breath.

"If my dad taught me anything," he flicked the ashes out of the little window beside him, "it's how to smoke."

* * *

Kurt was lying on his stomach in his room two months later. School was due to start back in two weeks and he was nervous to start junior high. He wasn't sure if it was junior high he was really nervous about or the fact that Blaine wouldn't be there with him. Speaking of Blaine, he hadn't come to hang out that day like he said he would. Kurt knew better than to go to Blaine's when the Ford was in the drive way, so he had been waiting on Blaine to come to him.

It was almost ten when something hit Kurt's window. A small pebble, from the sound of it. Kurt furrowed his brow and climbed off his bed. Blaine never threw rocks...he usually climbed right up.

Kurt slid his window up and looked down. "Blaine?"

"Kurt...come let me in, please," he gasped, holding his side and his cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"Just please let me in," he repeated. It sounded as though he was shaking and maybe even a little scared. Kurt quietly hurried downstairs and unchained the front door. Blaine hobbled inside and almost fell into Kurt.

"Whoa, what happend!" Kurt took in his friend. Blaine's face was bleeding.

"Dad shoved me into the table...the glass-" he was sobbing. Kurt put an arm around Blaine's shoulder and led him upstairs as quietly as he could, but the light was on under his father's door. He tried to get him to his room, but Burt's voice stopped them.

"Kurt? What are you doing?"

"I um...I let Blaine in," Kurt called down the stairs. Burt turned on the staircase light and gasped.

"Blaine? Son, what happened-"

"I was in the treehouse," he quickly pulled himself together.

"Blaine-" Kurt tried to interrupt, but Blaine jabbed him in the side with his elbow.

"I stepped wrong and fell out. I'm ok, just cut up," Blaine lied with a straight face.

Burt looked at Kurt, looking for affirmation. Kurt just nodded.

"Ok, well, do I need to call your mom?"

"No, I was coming to stay over anyway. I'll be ok," Blaine blinked back tears. Burt sighed and nodded.

"Just let me know if you need anything, ok? The peroxide is in the cabinet in the bathroom, Kurt. You know what to do."

Kurt nodded and quickly led Blaine up to the bathroom and shut the door.

"You just lied to my dad."

Blaine collapsed onto the toilet lid and started to cry, hard and as quietly as he possibly could. Kurt dug around in the medicine cabinet and pulled out the peroxide and a rag. He wet it with the peroxide and knelt down in front of Blaine.

"Hold this to your face..." he placed the rag in Blaine's bloody hand. "Let me see your side."

Blaine coughed, his face scrunching in pain, and pulled his shirt up. From below his armpit down under the waist of his sleep pants wasn a large purple bruise. Kurt reached out and touched it and Blaine let out a cry of pain.

"What if your ribs are broken?" Kurt asked nervously.

"It hurts so bad," Blaine sobbed. "But I can't tell anybody. They'll send me away."

Kurt didn't have an answer for that. It was true. He didn't want Blaine to be sent to the state home.

With a sigh, Kurt grabbed the peroxide and helped Blaine to his room. After wrestling Blaine's shoes off, he helped him lay back in the bed and rewet the rag, which was now a coppery brown color from the blood. The gash in Blaine's cheek wasn't too deep, but it was still bleeding pretty bad.

"What are you gonna do?"

"Same thing I always do," Blaine shrugged and sniffled.

"You can't keep letting him beat you up. He's gonna kill you," Kurt said angrily.

"He won't...he's my dad-"

"Your dad is pushing you into glass tables, Blaine!" Kurt stood up and threw the rag on the ground. "What if he did? What if one day he pushes you too hard and you die!"

Kurt was fighting the lump in his throat. It was a scary thought, Blaine dying. It had been said by his mother about his weak immune system and that's how Kurt thought it may happen one day a long time from then, but to have his best friend- his brother- in danger of being beaten to death by his father was far more frightening than that.

Blaine struggled to sit back up, his eyes never leaving Kurt. "I won't let him."

Kurt scoffed. "He's bigger than you."

Blaine swallowed and stood up shakily and walked to Kurt. Kurt could see what he wanted to do in his eyes so he did it for him. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine for the first time in years, hugging him tightly and taking in his scent. If he ever lost Blaine he thought he might die, too. The feeling he had in that moment was a scary one...one that he knew he shouldn't have had, but did. He loved Blaine. Blaine was his closest confidant and only true friend in the whole world.

Maybe things would be ok, Kurt thought. They will as long as I still have him.

* * *

**Part 2: Teenagers**

**Four Years Later**

Kurt hit the floor hard as a foot caught the edge of his sneaker and tripped him in the hall.

"You dropped something, Hummel," George Cornell laughed and spat at him. He and his leather jacket-clad accomplace high-fived and rounded the corner.

"Gee, you ok, Kurt?" Blaine knelt down and helped his friend up off the floor, picking up the books that had flown out of his hands when he fell.

"Yeah, fine," he muttered, rubbing his wrist. Blaine straightened up and handed Kurt his books back.

"God, those guys are real jerks," Blaine glared after the two boys.

"It's no big deal, Blaine, really...I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be," Blaine walked beside Kurt, his fists stuffed into his varsity jacket. The years since meeting had changed them both. Kurt had gone to summer camp and come back to a whole new Blaine. Gone was the skinny, precocious little boy he had met on Gilmore Street and here was a broad, handsome young football player who had grown into his good looks. Kurt was nothing like that. He was tall, skinny, pale and feminine. Next to Blaine, he looked almost ridiculous or so he thought. Blaine had stuck with him through everything- the bullying, the harsh names, and the strange changes he was going through. Kurt knew something about him wasn't right. He had Blaine to talk about it with, but Blaine didn't know any more than he did.

"You wanna come over and start on that paper for Mrs. Winslow? I'm really stuck on it," Blaine ran his hand through his curly hair that was now tamed with the slightest bit of grease.

"Sure. I've finished mine, but I'll help you out," Kurt nudged his shoulder. "You're a little hopeless."

"Hey, just because I'm not quite as literate as you doesn't mean you can rag on me," Blaine laughed and nudged back.

"Fine, fine. I'll meet you on the steps after class and we'll walk."

Blaine bid Kurt goodbye and headed toward the locker room for gym. Blaine always felt light after leaving Kurt's side- like someone had blown up a balloon in his chest. Talking with Kurt so much about feeling like he was different started to make Blaine question himself a lot. Blaine liked Kurt. He was his best friend and closest confidant. They knew more about each other than they knew about broke his heart to think about them being so hateful toward his friend when he knew Kurt and knew that he was absolutely perfect.

They had been in high school only one year- two for Kurt- and already had discovered that the world didn't exactly understand their friendship. Blaine knew that most friends weren't as close as Kurt and Blaine. They didn't go to dinner together or sit up on the couch watching American Bandstand together while giggling about the outfits the kids wore. Because they didn't understand, things tended to get around that weren't entirely true. This was why Blaine officially hated gym.

After the warm up, they started playing basketball. Though Blaine loved it, he couldn't fight his underlying anger at being picked last for teams. He also couldn't deny that he was getting checked for no reason other than the muttered 'sissy' the other guy would spit his way when he hit the ground. When the final bell rang, he gladly skipped the showers to grab his bag and head out to the steps to wait for Kurt, gym clothes still sticking to his body.

"You don't usually beat me here," Kurt appeared behind him.

"I needed to get outta there," Blaine shrugged and they started their mile walk home. They passed the river and the old tree where their delapidated old treehouse still clung to the branches.

"Man, you remember building that thing?" Blaine leapt down the slope and looked up at it. "I can't believe we didn't lose our thumbs."

Kurt made his way over and looked up. "It's all warped."

"Come on," Blaine tossed his bag down and started climbing the steps.

"Blaine, it's gonna break," Kurt warned as Blaine squeezed through the opening at the bottom.

"No way, it's solid," Blaine laughed and held his hand out. "Come on."

Kurt warily looked the thing over. "If I die, Anderson, it's your ass."

"I won't let you fall," Blaine smiled. "Promise."

The smile made Kurt's chest flutter. Kurt finally put down his bag and took Blaine's hand. With effort, he pulled himself up into the old treehouse and looked around.

"Nobody stole our stuff," he picked up an old, worn baseball card that was sitting in the corner. "Though, your Jackie Robinson card is all moldy."

"I'll live," Blaine waved him away and looked out the little window. "I used to spend hours up here when Dad would come home. It was the only place he couldn't find me."

Kurt studied the side of Blaine's face. The cheek that had gotten cut by the glass table so many years before had healed to where it was now just a tiny white scar on his cheekbone. Ever since, Kurt still insisted he tell someone, but he hadn't told a soul. He never would unless he knew Blaine was in serious trouble.

John and Jeanette had started fighting a lot lately. It was only a small glimmer of hope that Jeanette would kick him out and Blaine would finally be free from the fear his father instilled in him. Blaine looked lost in thought and Kurt could almost hear him thinking about it.

"They still fighting?" he asked.

Blaine nodded, not looking away from the window.

"Maybe he'll get kicked out."

Blaine sighed and leaned back inside, leaning back against the wall. "You know what sucks? I still love the bastard."

Kurt shrugged. "He's still your dad, I guess."

Blaine nodded and picked at the string on his Chuck Taylors. "You know...I've never really thanked you. You've put up with a lot of me coming over in the middle of the night...helping me cover it all up...you kept that secret for me for so long..."

"I always will," Kurt met his eyes. Blaine's breath caught in his chest at the sun catching Kurt's face. Blaine knew he was gay- Kurt had always been his solidifying factor in that aspect.

"I wonder...if you'll keep another one for me."

Kurt furrowed his brow. "What's up?"

Blaine bit his lip. "You got really mad last time we talked about it...when we were kids..."

Kurt didn't seem to recognize what he meant. Blaine sat up straighter and picked at his thumbnail, a nervous habit he seemed to have developed over the years.

"I just...I still want you to be my friend after I tell you...you said we'd be friends forever once...no matter what."

"No matter what," Kurt nodded. Blaine looked for any doubt and found none. Here goes, he thought.

"I think...I may be gay..."

Kurt's expression changed only slightly. Not in anger, but in an almost relief. Blaine wanted it to be, at least.

"Um...ok," Kurt nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Ok? You mean you don't hate me?"

"You're still Blaine, right?"

Blaine wanted to cry. A smile broke out over his face and he nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Then I'm ok."

The other part of the news would come later- the part where Blaine seemed to be slowly falling in love with his best friend. The part where Blaine often dreamed about being with Kurt in every way. The parts where he woke up in a mess of sticky sheets and sweat when these dreams were over. That would come when Kurt got used to the idea.

"Thanks, Kurt," Blaine smiled and fought the urge to hug him, but Kurt beat him to it. Kurt leaned forward and hugged Blaine tightly and let Blaine wrap his arms around his friend. The smell of apples filled his nose and warmed his heart. Kurt didn't hate him. Kurt would always be his friend as long as he was still Blaine.  
At the moment, nothing else mattered to him- eternal damnation, the kids at school, his parents. It was all secondary to Kurt's approval. Kurt was all that mattered to him.

* * *

"So, like...how do you know?" Kurt asked later that week. The topic hadn't been broached much since Blaine's confession. Nothing had changed. Blaine still slept in Kurt's bed that weekend and they went to the movies and watched American Bandstand as if nothing was different. When the topic finally came up again, Blaine had mentioned Calvin Jacobs, the running back.

"That I'm gay? I don't know...I just know," Blaine shrugged. "Like...you know the way you look at girls? That's how I see boys."

Kurt thought about it. He didn't really look at girls any special way. He would notice if their makeup was too dark or their shoes didn't match their skirt, but that couldn't be what Blaine meant. That was just a good eye.

"Actually, I don't really get it...how am I supposed to look at girls?"

Blaine furrowed his eyebrow. "You notice things about them...their eyes, their bodies, their smile...stuff like that."

"I don't really care about girls like that," Kurt said absently, thinking as hard as he could about any certain girl. He couldn't.

"Oh...maybe you just haven't found the right one," Blaine diverted.

"Have you?" Kurt asked.

Blaine glanced away from Kurt. "Yeah...I think so...but he doesn't like me like that. He's not gay, anyway."

"How do you know?" Kurt asked, crossing his legs on the bed in his room.

"Can we talk about something else?" Blaine asked quickly. He was getting sweaty palms. The thought of Kurt finding out just yet terrified him.

"Um...sure, sorry," Kurt muttered and shook his head. "Let's get back to the homework."

Blaine was glad to open his math workbook for the first time in his life.

* * *

Kurt was acting downright strange.

It started when he told Blaine that he couldn't walk home with him after school. Then, when Blaine came over to see if he wanted to go see a movie, Burt had told him Kurt wasn't feeling well and wanted to stay home. After a few days, Blaine couldn't stand it anymore and cornered Kurt outside the cafeteria.

"Come on, Kurt, you said you had to do dishes yesterday."

"Well, that's the thing about dishes- you use them every day, so there are dirty ones every day," Kurt snapped and tried to push past Blaine, but he wouldn't let him by.

"What's going on?"

Kurt huffed. "Fine...I've got a girlfriend."

Blaine's chest clenched and he tried not to let it show on his face. "Oh...that's all?"

"That's all?"

"Well, you know I don't care, right?" Blaine forced a laugh. "Why didn't you just tell me and I'd get outta your hair?"

"It's Quinn Fabray."

Blaine's eyes widened. "No way."

Kurt nodded and bit his lip. "Yeah... she practically kidnapped me after math the other day and told me we needed to be together...said I was likely to stop getting teased so much...and that she's liked me since first grade."

Blaine stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Oh...well, cool. I'm happy for you."

Kurt gave him a crooked grin. "Sorry I ignored you...I just didn't know how to tell you. I mean...it's kind of like I'm using her as a human shield or something."

"If it keeps you from getting beat up all the time, I'm for it," Blaine nudged Kurt's shoulder with his, making Kurt laugh.

"Can we hang out again now?" Blaine asked. "I've been bored out of my mind without Bandstand."

Kurt laughed and nodded. "Fine, let's go home."

* * *

**About to start my transition to LJ! I'll let you guys all know when I get it there.**


	6. Chapter 6

******I have started writing on Scarves and Coffee! I'm soldiersgirl9 there as well if you try to find me. I think I'll keep posting on both this site and there for now, but I really like the format of S&C. I'll probably finish it out...idk. I'll let you guys know. My inbox and tumblr and email has been ASPLODING from you guys sending your support and finding out where I am on there. It gives me warm fuzzies. I make grabby hands at you all! Here's a new chapter!**

* * *

Kurt and Quinn were the new power couple in McKinley High. As Quinn predicted, Kurt was now looked at in envy rather than in hatred and more often than not had  
the beautiful blond cheerleader draped around his arm. Blaine sat with them at lunch while Quinn would laugh loudly at Kurt's snarky comments or jokes. It wasn't  
that he didn't like Quinn being around...he just didn't like that she had what he couldn't have.

Kurt went along, though it was obvious that Quinn was more invested in the relationship than he was. He was a totally different person around Quinn than he was  
when they were at Blaine or Kurt's house hanging out. Kurt never ignored Blaine, always including him in their plans if Quinn would agree to it.

After about three months, just before Christmas break, Kurt sat in his room after a very big date with Quinn.

She kissed him.

It was his first kiss. He had read books about charactars getting their first kiss and feeling sparks, fireworks, all sorts of crazy emotions.

He felt nothing.

As he sat in his room, he thought about going to Blaine's and talking to him about it, but the thoughts in his head seemed to devoid him of his motor skills. It  
wasn't a foreign thought. It was one that had been plaguing him since childhood.

He wanted to like Quinn. She was very beautiful and very popular. She was funny and smart and really seemed to like Kurt. For some reason, Kurt's body resisted  
her advances. Tonight was the first time he actually gave in and let her kiss him. She had tried on several occasions to do it, but he was hesitant because of  
the thoughts that would scream out in his mind when she did. The thoughts about what Blaine would say...

Always about Blaine.

That's what scared Kurt the most. Why, when he was about to kiss a beautiful girl, was he thinking of Blaine?

Kurt slumped back onto his pillow and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands. His head was starting to hurt from all the buzzing in his brain. He remembered  
asking Blaine how he knew he was gay...the answer always stuck with him.

'I just know'.

Kurt doesn't. Kurt can't honestly say that he just knows one way or the other.

The window slid open and a cold gust of air followed by a few flurries of snow drifted in and Blaine slid into the window and shut it quickly.

"Shit, it's freezing."

"Quinn kissed me."

Kurt just blurted it out. He didn't think before he spoke. Blaine froze in the action of pulling off his jacket.

"We were in the driveway at her house and she just leaned over and kissed me..." Kurt stammered. "...And I didn't feel a thing."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrow. "Nothing?"

Kurt shook his head.

Blaine slid off his jacket and sat down next to Kurt up by the headboard. "That sucks... maybe she's just not the one for you."

"Blaine...I wanna try something," Kurt closed his eyes and fought the twisting in his stomach.

"Um...ok," Blaine shifted on the bed.

"Kiss me."

Blaine's stomach dropped into his feet. This had to be a dream. He was gonna wake up in his own cum and it would all be a dream.

"Do it before I change my mind," Kurt kept his eyes closed. Blaine swallowed and hesitated only for a moment before he slowly and gently pressed his lips to Kurt's.

Kurt didn't react. Not immediately.

When their lips met, his brain shorted out. It wasn't as if he could ignore the fact that it was a boy- let alone Blaine- kissing him. Blaine's smell was all around him.  
The slight stubble on his chin and upper lip scratched against him. When Kurt's brain finally caught up, he noticed the tingling in his fingers and toes, the  
warm burst in his chest, the increasing blood flow to his lap.

Then, he reacted.

Kurt reached up and gripped the collar of Blaine's sweater in both hands, pulling him closer and deeper into the kiss. Blaine made a muffled sound like a moan and  
fought to keep his hands to himself. All he wanted was to pull Kurt close and run his hands over his strong back and arms, but thought better of it. What if Kurt  
realized what he was doing and punched the shit out of him?

After a moment, Kurt finally let go, pulling back slowly and cracking his eyes open. Blaine did the same and their eyes met- two pairs of darkened eyes staring  
into each other's searching for something that they couldn't find. Fear, doubt and anger. All were mysteriously absent.

"Wow," Blaine muttered, his warm breath ghosting Kurt's wet lips and making goosebumps spread over Kurt's arms.

"Blaine...kiss me again."

This time, Blaine didn't feel the need to keep his hands to himself. He cupped Kurt's cheek and kissed him again. Kurt slid closer to him, letting their hips  
touch and sides to meet. Warm body was meeting warm body and both boys were starting to get into it. Blaine tenativly grazed Kurt's bottom lip with his tongue and  
Kurt pulled away a little.

"S-sorry," Blaine said breathlessly. "It's just...Kurt, do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Kurt furrowed his brow. "What?"

"To kiss you," Blaine's eyes were darting between Kurt's and Kurt's lips. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it. And I know this is all really sudden and crazy, but  
I've liked you since... God, I don't even know how long..."

Kurt looked a little shocked, hand slipping down from Blaine's collar a little. "You like me?"

Blaine bit his lip and let go of Kurt's cheek. "Yeah..."

Kurt sat back against his headboard to take it all in. "You never said-"

"What was I supposed to say, Kurt? I thought you were straight."

"Never said I wasn't," Kurt muttered. Blaine looked at him.

"You just asked me to kiss you...twice..."

"I don't know what I am, ok? All I know is that I've never felt like this before...maybe you should just go home..."

Blaine's warm heart started to slowly freeze up. "Kurt-"

"Just go, ok?" Kurt's voice shook. He ran his hands through his soft brown hair and drew his knees up to his chest. Blaine felt the tears burning his eyes, but  
refused to let Kurt see. He threw his jacket back on and climbed hurridly out the window. When he was finally in his room, he fell down on his bed and cried himself  
weak.

* * *

Kurt wasn't at school the next day.

Or the next.

Blaine sat in the cafeteria nibbling on a sandwich- the most he had eaten since the kiss. If he thought his feelings for Kurt were bad before, now they were  
raging and fighting in his chest, beating his heart to a pulp.

Quinn flounced into the cafeteria, clearly on a mission. When her eyes rested on Blaine, he decided he was it.

She stalked over, her cheerleading skirt bouncing around her knees and ponytail swinging behind her head. "Where's Kurt?"

Blaine swallowed. "I guess he's been sick."

"His dad said he doesn't wanna talk to me. I keep calling their house, but he says Kurt's not up for talking to anyone right now. You're his best friend...is  
he ok?"

She seemed concerned, but her gait didn't really speak it. It was uppity, just like her personality, Blaine observed.

"I haven't seen him either...I don't know," he mumbled and stuffed his half-eaten sandwich back in the wrapper to stand up and throw it away.

"What's going on with you two? You have all these little secrets and things that I don't get to know about," Quinn stood up with him and approached him, her  
tiny body overshadowed by her presence.

"Nothing, ok? We're friends...just friends," he turned away as he felt the lump rise in his throat. Practically running out of the cafeteria he headed to the  
locker room and slammed the door hard, quickly making sure no one was in there with him before he let out a frustrated growl and punched the punching bag hanging  
from the ceiling. It felt good, so he decided to pull off his jacket and hastily tape his hands. He needed to put all of this unrequetted love somewhere.

* * *

Blaine lay on his back later that night, absently massaging his bruised knuckles. He had punched that bag so hard and for so long, he missed his afternoon classes  
and frayed the tape. The bloody knuckles only slightly masked his true pain.

His mom and dad were downstairs arguing about him. It was always about him.

Jeanette had come up a while before to bring him a sandwich, which he refused, and now John was complaining that she was babying him, turning him into a sissy.

It had been that way for about an hour and all he wanted to do was crawl out the window and run to Kurt's, but even gazing out his window at Kurt's house hurt.  
Kurt didn't want to see him. He doubted if he would ever talk to him again. Blaine did know one thing though-

He was definately gay.

The scent of Kurt still lingered on his senses- masculine and pungent like freshly cut timber. The feeling of his strong jaw beneath his hand still ghosted his  
palm. He wanted it again. He wanted Kurt.

Hours seemed to pass. John had barged out of the house and driven off to the bar. Jeanette hadn't made a peep. He figured he ought to go check on her. Blaine rolled  
out of his bed and walked downstairs slowly.

"Momma?" he called to her. A sniffle led him to the kitchen where he found her sitting at the table with a steaming mug of tea and tear tracks on her beautiful  
olive skin.

"Momma..." Blaine said sympathetically and pulled up a chair next to her. She tried to brush the tears away quickly, but Blaine just wrapped his arms around her  
shoulder and rested his head on her shoulder. She relaxed and let him hold her. She didn't cry anymore, but he could tell she was miserable.

"Why don't you just kick him out?" he finally broke the silence, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"I can't," she said brokenly. "He only gets this way when he's been drinking, Blaine."

"He's always drinking," he let her go and stood up. "Not to mention he beats the shit out of me."

"Language, Blaine Michael," she scolded him. He sighed and met her eyes- his eyes.

"Sorry...Kurt's mad at me..."

Jeanette looked concerned. "What happened?"

Blaine felt compelled to talk about it. He didn't know how she would react. Knowing that your only son was gay probably wouldn't help her current state.

"Just...things I don't really wanna talk about right now."

"Is that why you've been so closed off?"

"Yes...and no... Momma, I really-"

"What's wrong, Blainey?" she stood up, calling him by his pet name from years before. He couldn't help the ache in his chest from hearing it.

"You'll hate me," he mumbled and ducked his head. Jeanette wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, her fingers tangling in his soft curls.

"I could never hate you, sweetheart. You're still my baby, even though I feel like I don't even know you anymore...you've been so quiet and reserved these past  
couple of years...I just want to know what I can do to make it better..."

Blaine blinked, letting tears slide down his face onto her soft cloth shoulder. "You can't fix this, Momma."

Jeanette let him go, looking at him at arm's length with a look of pure sadness. "Blaine...please..."

Blaine couldn't lie anymore. It would probably cost him everything- the only mother he has...the only person in this house that didn't make him feel like a  
failure...the only person he seemed to have left- but the fear in her eyes was almost as heartbreaking as Kurt's rejection.

"Momma...I'm in love with someone."

Jeanette seemed to perk up a little. "Honey...is that all?"

"I-it's Kurt..."

Her amused relief disappeared quickly. She kept a firm grip on his shoulders, almost deathly. He never wavered his gaze, keeping his eyes trained on her face.

"Sweetie...maybe you've just become...such good friends that-"

"Mother," he said brokenly, cutting her off. He never called her mother- not when it was something good. Only when they argued or he was having a bad day. Now he  
was using it to reaffirm his statement. He was in love with a boy. She couldn't justify it by making excuses for him. Jeanette dropped her arms to her side  
limply and sat back in the chair, her eyes lost and searching for something that could explain.

They were quiet, Blaine waiting on bated breath for her to answer him. To damn him to Hell or slap him or throw him out onto the street and sick his father on him.

"It's a sin, Blaine."

Her voice wasn't cold or angry, simply stating what she thought was a fact.

"For him, Momma...for him I'd face eternal damnation..."

Jeanette finally looked at him since his confession. She must have been searching for something- devil horns or for him to burst into flames in her kitchen-  
but when she realized that it was still her baby standing there- still the same sweet, kind little boy she rocked to sleep, cleaned up after a hard day of  
play, comforted after his father had an outburst- she found herself standing in front of him, her hand cupping his cheek.

"Do you still love me, Momma?"

Jeanette's heart broke. She kissed his forehead and held him tight to her chest, still not used to the feeling of muscle and strength over his shoulders and  
back. He didn't know what it meant at first. He wanted to hug her back and hold on to the hope that it didn't matter who he loved.

"Blaine...there is nothing in this world that could stop me from loving you," she cried against his curls. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist,  
letting the built up wall of tears go and sobbing uncontrollably, mumbling 'thank you, Momma, thank you' on repeat into her shoulder. She tried to shush him  
but she could tell he needed to let go.

"I'm right here, baby boy...it's gonna be ok," she sat down, bringing him with her. He sat on the floor and buried his face into her skirt while she stroked  
his curls comfortingly.

"He hates me, Momma. I don't know what to do to fix it...I don't even care if he loves me or not...I just miss him..."

Jeanette sighed shakily and nudged him to sit up and look at her. She took the corner of her skirt and wiped his face like she did when he was little. "Is Kurt...?"

Blaine sniffed and swallowed. "He...he asked me to kiss him...and I did...then he told me to leave. I'm not sure anymore..."

A knock, barely registerable, came at the door. Jeanette stood up slowly and made herself presentable before answering the door.

"Hi, Mrs. Anderson...is Blaine home?"


	7. Chapter 7

**S&C is down tonight, so I'm updating here then posting it there probably tomorrow if it is back up and running. OMG feelings!**

* * *

Jeanette took in Kurt's worn appearance. If she hadn't known what Blaine had just told her, she would think the boy was ill. He looked as if he hadn't slept in several days and possibly in the same shirt and jeans. His eyes were red and puffy.

Jeanette looked back at Blaine, seeing he hadn't come into the living room yet. She stepped outside and shut the door quietly.

"What's going on, Mrs. Anderson?"

"He loves you," she said simply, standing eye level with Kurt. She was a few inches taller than her son, but she was perfectly on level with the 16 year old in front of her. Kurt seemed to shrink a little.

"He told you-"

"He's been sitting at my feet for the past thirty minutes crying his eyes out because he thought I wouldn't love him anymore," she swallowed hard. "I do love him...that will never stop. I have to accept the fact that my son is different...and what he said about you...well, if he is going to give up his place in Heaven for something, I'm glad that it's love..."

Kurt stood and listened to her musing. It was beautifully tragic, what she was saying. And Blaine not only liked him...he loved him.

"What did he say?"

She wiped her eyes again. "That you were worth eternal damnation."

Kurt slid his eyes closed. He had come to talk everything out with Blaine- to set the record straight that he didn't exactly know what he was or what he wanted but that he didn't want to lose him.

Blaine said he would burn in Hell...for him. It was staggering and made Kurt's head spin a little. When he opened his eyes, Jeanette was watching him closely.

"May I speak to him?"

Jeanette nodded but put a hand on his shoulder.

"Just so you know, Kurt...I'll still love you, too."

Coming from Jeanette, it was something to be savoured. She had become like a mother to him and to know that someone out there would still care...no matter what he decided...brought the faintest bit of relief to him after so many days of ache and uncertainty. She kissed his cheek and opened the door for him.

"Momma, who's-" Blaine was sitting on the couch, but paused when he saw Kurt in the door.

"Hey," Kurt said quietly, looking Blaine over. He didn't look much better than he felt.

"Hi," Blaine answered breathlessly. Jeanette walked over and placed a hand on his cheek.

"You two need to talk...I'll be in my room," she offered him a reassuring smile, which he faintly returned, and walked out of the living room. Kurt still stood in the hallway, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I broke up with Quinn."

Blaine looked for a sign of sadness on his face, but it wasn't there. "Why?"

Kurt shrugged. "She's not the right one for me..."

Blaine didn't want to look hopeful, so he looked away from Kurt, looking toward the stairs.

"Do you wanna talk upstairs?"

Kurt nodded and Blaine led Kurt up to his room.

"Where's your dad?" Kurt asked as Blaine shut the door.

"I don't know," Blaine sighed, still sniffling a little from his crying fit. "He and Momma had a fight...about me..."

"Does he know?"

"I'm still alive, right?" Blaine gave a cold laugh, making Kurt cringe. "Sorry," he apologized, recognizing he had made a sick joke.

"Blaine, I've been thinking a lot about what you said...how you just know...I still don't, but I didn't want to drag Quinn along for the ride while I tried to figure it out...I do know one thing, though," he sat down across from Blaine on the bed, their knees almost touching as they sat Indian style on the bed.

"What?"

"That I wouldn't make it another day without you," Kurt looked down at Blaine's hands where they rested in his lap. "That if I didn't have you in my life that I would be miserable and lonely...does that mean I love you?"

Blaine wanted to say yes, but it wasn't what Kurt needed to hear. "I think it means that I'm important to you...that you care about me."

Kurt nodded and blinked rapidly to stem the tears in his eyes. Blaine saw that Kurt was looking at his hands.

"Can I...can I just hold your hand?"

Kurt felt his breath catch a little in his throat. "Um...sure."

Blaine tenativly reached out and took Kurt's hand, lacing their fingers together. Kurt's hand was so soft and warm and large. Perfect. Kurt relaxed into the grip of Blaine's hand and felt the vice around his heart loosen. Being here with Blaine like this was what he missed. He didn't know if it meant something more or if, like Blaine said, he was just caring for his friend. Whatever it was, Kurt wasn't going to let him leave like he did again. Blaine was going to help him face this. Blaine was going to help him find who he was.

* * *

By March, things had settled back down a little. Neither boy had mentioned the kiss or anything surrounding it since before Christmas and they were back to normal. Kurt had really started to think about where he stood in the world. He wanted to be normal- a hormonal 16-year-old boy chasing after girls on the beach in the summer and joining in on the sexual jokes the boys would make in the locker room. The only problem was that he couldn't. The harder he tried to see girls in a sexual way, the more his mind twisted their soft, slender bodies into taut muscles and large, rough hands. He would often stop in the middle of masturbating in frustration because he couldn't get the images out of his head.

On this night, he didn't stop.

He was stroking himself slowly, letting the images twist and blur in and out to being pressed down into his bed by a tanned, muscular boy whose lips were ghosting his neck, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat beading against his jaw.

Kurt sped up. He hadn't felt so turned on in his life. He could almost feel his hand being replaced by another- a rougher, slightly smaller one. It pumped him while the boy over him leaned into his ear and whispered something filthy, but oh so sexy.

As Kurt was feeling the tight pull of his balls, the heat in his gut about to pour from him, he saw the boy's face in his mind- chocolate and golden eyes, dark beautiful curls, face contorted in pleasure, his name- Kurt's name- tumbling from his panting lips in a deep, gruff voice he had never heard before from the boy.

Kurt bit into his fist as he came hard over his hand and stomach, pumping himself furiously through it to pull every ounce of pleasure he could from it. The images in his mind began to fade away except for the eyes. Kurt could still see them burning and dark in his mind.

Kurt quickly cleaned himself up and slid on some shorts and a t-shirt. He had to see Blaine.

Crawling out of his window with no shoes definately wasn't one of his brightest ideas, but he was in a hurry. At midnight, the little town was dead in sleep and he could hear his feet on the grass and dirt only barely over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. The lattice work leading up to Blaine's window bowed under his weight as he climbed up swiftly. Blaine's window was barely cracked as it always was and he wiggled his fingers into the gap to pull it up.

Blaine was fast asleep on his back in his bed, legs splayed and angled with the sheets twisted around him. He was in nothing but briefs and a pair of socks.

Kurt swallowed and allowed himself to look- to take in the dips and curves of Blaine's collar bone, chest and stomach. His hips dipped dangerously into his briefs and the raised cotton beneath the waistband made Kurt's mouth water and goosebumps rise on his skin. Kurt climbed in and closed the window quietly so he could keep the boy asleep for just a little longer. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Blaine like this before. They swam together in their underwear in the river from the time they were kids until just a couple of years ago. They had to share a bath on more than one occasion as kids when they would get ungodly muddy after a rainstorm and Jeanette would be berating Blaine while she scrubbed him raw about his immune system. But this...

Kurt gently sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at his face, set in peaceful sleep with his hand placed almost strategically next to his forehead. With his face turned away from Kurt, his neck stretched and tight. Kurt slowly reached forward, letting his fingertips barely ghost the taut skin along the column of his neck down to the dip in his collar bone. Blaine stirred only slightly in his sleep, making a soft noise that made Kurt smile.

It didn't take much to convince Kurt that yes...he might just love Blaine, too.

He didn't know if that made him gay or if he just wanted Blaine- sweet, charming, beautiful Blaine.

And Blaine was beautiful. God, he was gorgeous. Jeanette's European roots were very prevolant in Blaine's face- the strong jaw and eyebrows, the uniquie cut of his eyes and his dark skin. His lips, now parted in sleep, were soft and plump. Kurt ran his thumb over Blaine's jaw to his bottom lip gently, tracing the outline of it.

He started to feel a little creepy, but he couldn't help it. It was as if someone had sharpened the focus on his vision and he was seeing Blaine in a new light. He started noticing things he never had before, like a small freckle over Blaine's right nipple, a mole next to his belly button he had never seen...he just added these things to a long list of things he liked...no, loved...about Blaine.

Finally, Kurt let out a sigh and softly shook Blaine's shoulder. "Hey...wake up," he said softly, not wanting to alarm him. Blaine stirred and turned his head

"Kurt?" He yawned. "What's going on? You never come to me..."

"I couldn't sleep...I kept thinking...about things," Kurt rubbed the back of his messy hair. He felt much more vulnerable with Blaine awake.

"About what? Is everything ok?"

Kurt let his hand fall limp in his lap and sighed. "Blaine...I want you to kiss me again. A real kiss..."

Blaine furrowed his brow. "Really?"

"I won't run away from it this time," Kurt looked into Blaine's eyes, channeling all the sincerity he could manage into his gaze. "I want this...I want you."

Blaine slid close to Kurt and lifted a shaking hand to Kurt's face. He didn't quite touch his cheek, hovering just beside it as if afraid to go too far. Kurt sensed this and placed his hand over Blaine's pressing it to his cheek and sighing agianst the touch of Blaine's warm hand on his cold cheek. Blaine leaned forward and placed his lips to Kurt's gently. It was a rush of everything and not enough in one simple touch of skin.

Blaine remembered Kurt's request- a real kiss. Blaine darted his tongue between his lips and swiped across Kurt's bottom lip and was, this time, met with Kurt opening his mouth to accommodate him. Blaine let out a soft moan as he felt Kurt's tongue on his and a spike of arousal shot down his spine. Kurt felt the rumble of Blaine's moan and placed his hands on Blaine's chest, feeling the stretch of the muscle as Blaine breathed in and out against Kurt's lips.

"You're sure?" Blaine asked breathlessly agains his mouth. "Kurt, I don't want you to do this because of me-"

"I'm not...well, I am," Kurt leaned back a little and took Blaine's face in his hands. "I'm doing this because you make me feel like I'm weightless...like if you ever left me I would pop and fall to the Earth like a balloon. I feel like if I could, I'd face down anything to protect you...and I want to feel you against me... I want you to hold me and kiss me...touch me..."

Blaine's breathing was becoming more rapid with each word, tears collecting in his eyes. "Kurt-"

Kurt cut him off with his lips, pressing Blaine back against the mattress and stretching out to lie beside him on the bed. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulders and pulled him close. Their chests and hips met and in the slight chill of the room they felt the heat of their bodies against each other.

"You're beautiful, you know," Kurt separated from Blaine's mouth and began peppering kisses over his chin and down his throat. "I never noticed before...or didn't want to...but you're so beautiful," Kurt reached Blaine's chest and kissed the small freckle above his nipple. Blaine let out an involuntary hiss as Kurt's chin brushed it. Kurt noticed and leaned down to take the nipple into his mouth. He gave an experimental suck and Blaine whined, trying to keep his voice down since his parents were both downstairs asleep- his father on the recliner and his mother in the bed. Kurt couldn't keep his hands still, running up Blaine's side and up over his strong chest.

"Kurt," he rolled his hips up a little. He was dangerously hard and didn't want to say anything, but it was becoming a little uncomfortable. Kurt looked up at him, his eyes dark and shining in the moonlight.

"D-do you want me to..." he motioned toward Blaine's lap.

"I...Kurt, this is all so sudden...I've never..."

Kurt saw the fear in his eyes and immediately sat up. "I'm sorry," he placed a hand on Blaine's chest, covering his hammering heart. "I got a little..."

"It's ok," Blaine closed his eyes, seeming to try and ground himself. "I-I want to...it's just-"

"I know," Kurt nodded and placed a gentle kiss to Blaine's lips. It seemed so simple- to lean down and kiss Blaine like that. Blaine stared up at him, his eyes still a little wide with surprise.

"What changed your mind?"

Kurt sighed and sat up. "I don't know...I think I finally let myself through that big door in my head that was blocking the other side...what I really wanted...turns out it was you."

Blaine's eyes softened and a small smile pulled at his lips.

"And if I have to be damned to Hell, at least I'll have you to go with," Kurt blinked back tears. "I couldn't imagine facing anything without you..."

Blaine sat up and took Kurt's hand while wiping the tears from Kurt's cheek with his thumb. He cupped Kurt's cheek and brought his head down to rest their foreheads together.

"I love you, Kurt...I've known for as long as I can remember..."

"I lov-"

"No," Blaine sat up, looking into Kurt's eyes, his hand firm on Kurt's cheek. "I don't want to hear it until you are absolutely sure...promise me?"

Kurt almost argued with him, but the resolute look in Blaine's eyes told him not to. He nodded and let Blaine guide him back to lie down.

"Will you stay?" Blaine whispered into Kurt's hair as he snuggled up, resting his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"I don't really wanna be anywhere else, actually," Kurt breathed him in and slid his eyes closed.

Blaine smiled and placed a kiss on Kurt's forehead. "Goodnight, Kurt."

"'Night, Blaine," he smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around Blaine's waist. It was the best night's sleep either boy had had in so long.

* * *

**not very long, but next chapter is cra-ZY!**


	8. Chapter 8

**hello, I'm back! sorry for the fo-evah update. You know...divorce...depression...guilt...tends to distract a person...**

**anyway, I'm back and at it! will also be updating Glee Love soon. I have half the next chapter written. A little late for it, but so what i can do that because I'm amazing and stuff.**

**WEEE**

* * *

"And today we recognize the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ as a miracle brought on by our Almighty God," the preacher rambled on to a hot, sleepy congregation. Kurt sat next to his father in the pew a couple of rows behind Blaine. He caught himself occasionally staring at the back of Blaine's head, eyes falling on the tender stretch of skin beneath his ear. A shiver ran down his spine every time he thought of past week- in the dark in Blaine's bed, kissing, rolling back and forth on the mattress fighting for dominance and giggling under heavy breaths.

Blaine tilted his head sideways, eyeing Kurt checking him out and throwing a smirk and a wink his way before turning back around, adjusting between his mother and father.

"God put forth these rules for man to follow to show the world that the Christians are pure of heart and spirit. Many have taken these rules and have deliberately turned their backs on God! These aren't Christians! These are lost souls doomed to Hell! The murderers...the rapists...those who lie with their own sex...they will have to fall at the Lord's knees and beg for forgiveness!"

Kurt tensed and shifted. Burt glanced sideways at him, taking in his tight expression.

"Jesus died for all of them...they have chosen to spit on God's sacrifice..." the preacher glanced towards Kurt, who quickly looked down to avoid his gaze. Burt swallowed nervously.

Blaine twisted his fingers and glanced back at Kurt and Burt with a steadfast expression. Kurt couldn't help but smile at his resiliance. Burt waited until the boys were focused back on the dark sermon to chance another look at his son. He knew...he just didn't want to believe it.

* * *

Burt and Kurt walked inside the house, both men quickly loosening their ties and placing their Bibles on the dresser inside the door.

"I was thinking of making some burgers for lunch...want one?" Burt stopped Kurt as he was heading up the stairs.

"Um...no thanks. I just wanna take a nap," Kurt shrugged him off and continued up the stairs.

"Interesting sermon today, don't you think?" Burt hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. "Very...intense."

Kurt stiffened his jaw and nodded tightly.

"You seemed a little uneasy with the content," Burt stepped up to the fifth step where Kurt was standing, his tie fisted in his hand.

"Dad, I just want a nap, ok?" Kurt's voice shook a little. Burt's stomach twisted at the discussion they were about to have, but this was his boy. He must always remember that, he told himself.

"Kurt...how close are you and Blaine?"

Kurt looked up quickly at him. "We're friends, Dad...you know that-"

"You can tell me, you know...you've been acting funny lately. You're never here in the mornings anymore. I know you've been staying at Blaine's-"

"Dad, come on-"

"Just tell me what's going on, Kurt!" Burt bursted out. Kurt didn't flinch. "What are you hiding from me? It's like you're not even the same person anymore-"

Kurt growled and shoved past his father and paced around the living room, his silk tie still fisted in his hand. He didn't want to talk. Not yet. It was all still so strange. Burt sighed and walked after him.

"I'm sorry I yelled, Kurt...I'm just worried-"

"About me or my soul?" Kurt stopped and looked at his father with teary eyes. Burt's breathed hitched at the look on his son's face. "Are you afraid that now I'm gonna burn in Hell? Are you gonna call me a faggot, too, like everyone else?" Kurt sniffed and swiped at his eyes with the heel of his hands. Burt felt his heart breaking for his son. He wanted to be disgusted or angry because his boy had lied to him, gone behind his back, and committed a sin...but this was Kurt.

"Go on, Dad," Kurt presented himself to his father, laying himself bare and open to his persecution. "Say it- tell me I'm a dirty fag that's gonna rot."

Burt stumbled back at Kurt's harsh language and intensity. Kurt looked on the edge of tears.

"I...Kurt-"

"Go ahead," he said a little less angrily, a hint of fear in his voice. "I don't know what I am anymore, Dad, but if loving Blaine makes me a fag...then that's what I am..."

Burt sighed and slumped down in the chair at the kitchen table, resting his head in his hand and visibly trying to process what was happening.

"I wanna go take a nap," Kurt said thickly. Burt simply nodded and Kurt hurried up the stairs and slammed his door. He collapsed against it, pulling his knees to his chest and sobbing into his legs. He was so lost. Was this what eternal damnation felt like? He sat there in front of the door, fighting back sobs and trying to pull himself together for the better part of an hour, finally climbing off the floor and crawling into his bed. He never fell asleep.

He watched the sky grow pink through his window as the sun set. A knock at his door made him jump.

"Kurt," Burt's voice called through the door. "Come on, it's time for dinner."

Kurt wanted to yell back that he wasn't hungry, but he dragged himself out of bed and figured he better suck it up and take what was coming to him. He didn't even get the door open before Burt pulled him into a bear hug, sniffling into his shoulder. Kurt tensed, surprised to say the least, but wrapped his arms around his father's back.

"I don't care, Kurt...I don't care if you're a homosexual...you're still my boy..." he cried against Kurt's neck.

Relief fell over Kurt like a warm blanket. He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and the Hummel men held each other, dinner forgotten and tears and apologies shared through sniffs and heavy throats.

* * *

"Mmm, I love your lips," Blaine sighed and leaned back in to kiss Kurt on the corner of the mouth.

"They're just lips," Kurt giggled. They were lying on the bank of the river, secluded by a large tree and the night. Two weeks. They had been together for two weeks that day and silently celebrated after Blaine's mother and Kurt's father had gone to bed.

"Yeah, but I really like yours," Blaine smirked and traced Kurt's lower lip with his thumb. Kurt playfully bit at it, making Blaine squeak unattractivly. Kurt fell into a fit of giggles while Blaine groaned and flopped back onto the blanket they had brought along.

"God," Kurt joined him after settling down. "Can you believe how easy this is? I mean, you and me?"

Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt, who had been studying his profile against the moonlight. Blaine gave him a sweet smile and slid his hand down into Kurt's.

"It's as easy as breathing, isn't it?" he smiled dazily. Kurt's chest swelled like it always did when Blaine said things like that. And he was right. Though Kurt had yet to say it out loud- wanting it to be everything Blaine wanted it to be- he loved Blaine with every breath he had. Each inhale and exhale.

Blaine turned on his side and propped up on one elbow, gazing down at Kurt like he was a precious jewel on display. "I wanna tell you something."

Kurt made an affirmative noise, giving Blaine his attention.

"You know the night you came to me...when you told me you wanted to be with me? You asked if you could...you know," Blaine blushed, making Kurt's face flare up in heat. It wasn't the only thing flaring.

"You want me to touch you?" Kurt asked breathlessly. Blaine's eyes smouldered at the thought and he nodded.

"If you want..."

Kurt swallowed hard and leaned up to kiss Blaine passionatly. Blaine let out a soft whine and leaned back, pulling Kurt against him. Their chests crashed together and the night didn't seem quite as chilly as they remembered.

"Kurt," Blaine whimpered, grasping at the back of Kurt's shirt while Kurt moved down Blaine's jaw and neck, kissing and sucking each inch of skin. "God, that feels so good."

Kurt let out a small chuckle against his Adam's Apple and let his hands move a little lower to the hem of Blaine's shirt. They hadn't really progressed past heavy kissing so he figured he would take the next step. He slid his hand up under Blaine's t-shirt, running over the smooth muscles of his stomach and up to his chest He took Blaine's nipple gently between his fingers and rolled it, making the younger boy arch his back off the blanket.

"You're really sensitive, aren't you?" Kurt smiled against his ear.

"It f-feels good," Blaine stammered and combed his fingers through the back of Kurt's soft brown hair. "Jesus, please do something."

"Ok, ok," Kurt chuckled. He was so nervous he was shaking, but he knew that if he showed it, he wouldn't follow through. He slowed his kisses to gentle pecks and removed his hand from Blaine's shirt, slowly inching his way over the button of Blaine's jeans and snapping it loose. Blaine seemed just as nervous.

"We don't have to, you know?" Kurt whispered against his lips, stilling his hands on the zipper.

"I want to...I want to with you..." Blaine stroked Kurt's cheek with his thumb, making Kurt's stomach unclench. Kurt nodded and pulled the zipper down, reaching inside and running his hand over the cotton of Blaine's breifs. The noise Blaine made was something Kurt would never forget- a whimper of relief and pleasure he would hear in his dreams for so long after.

Kurt ran his palm gently up and down over Blaine's warm cock, getting used to the feeling of having someone else in his hand. After a while, Kurt got a little more confident and pulled his hand out, making Blaine snap back to his senses.

"Wha-"

Kurt straddled Blaine's thighs and leaned down to kiss him while pulling at his jeans. Blaine got the idea and lifted his butt off the blanket to allow Kurt to pull them down a bit.

"Y-you can touch me, too," Kurt leaned up and slid Blaine's breifs down. Blaine was much bigger than Kurt remembered. A spike of arousal shot up Kurt's spine when he thought of all the times they had seen each other, but how it was never like this. They were the only ones who had. They were sharing something so personal and intimate that it almost knocked Kurt backward with the thought.

"Are you sure?" Blaine asked.

Kurt smiled and reached down to unbutton his own jeans. He leaned forward and kissed Blaine again while taking his hand and slowly leading it into his jeans, guiding Blaine to his now straining erection.

Both boys gasped as Blaine wrapped his hand around Kurt and gently squeezed. Kurt wasted no time in reaching back down to take Blaine in his hand again and start stroking him slowly. Blaine dropped his head back and his eyes slid closed, taking in the feeling of Kurt's larger hands on him and his lips now ghosting over his neck. The pleasure both boys were feeling was like nothing they had ever experienced before and though they were on the bank of the same river Ella took them to as children, where just on the other side, in a town that would damn them both to Hell, nothing else was on their minds except each other.

"I'm about to-"

"It's ok," Kurt breathed heavily against Blaine's ear and Blaine dug his fingers into the blanket beneath him and came with a surpressed groan in Kurt's hand, heat pouring over him as he tried to remember to keep moving over Kurt, who not three strokes later muffled a moan in Blaine's t-shirt and came as well, hot and sticky over Blaine's hand and his own shirt. The world surrounded them again. The cicadas could now be heard along with the rushing of the river and their heavy breaths.

"Oh my god," Kurt said shakily and propped up on his elbow to get a look at Blaine.

"Yeah...wow," Blaine looked right into Kurt's eyes. "Intense."

"Perfect," Kurt smiled and kissed Blaine lazily. They eventually got up and went back to their homes, sneaking a long goodnight kiss behind Blaine's garage, but at that moment, they were connected- eye to eye and heart to heart.

* * *

"Are you fucking kidding me, Jen! How could you keep that from me! Where is he!"

Blaine sat outside in his car, Kurt in the passenger's seat where they could hear everything with the windows down.

"What do you think happened this time?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged. "Who knows...maybe you should just head home..."

"I'm not leaving until he calms down," Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand. When John got drunk and they fought, it was always Blaine who got the brunt of the aggression.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Blaine continued to stare at the front door. John and Jeanette continued arguing loudly. A bottle smashed against a wall, making them both flinch.

The door flew open and John stumbled out of the house, clothes flying at him from inside. "Get out! I mean it this time! I never want to see your face again!"

"Fuck you, Jeanette! Fuck you and our faggot kid!" John chunked another empty bottle at the door just before Jeanette slammed it shut. Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand tight and motioned for him to slide down in his seat.

"He knows...oh god, how does he know!" Blaine began to panic. "Oh my god..."

"Sshh, it's ok, calm down," Kurt whispered just loud enough for Blaine to hear him. John shuffled around on the lawn, cursing and looking around wildly. When the shuffling stopped and footfalls grew close to the passenger's side of the car, Blaine felt like he was about to be sick. Just before John threw the door open, he gave Kurt's hand a quick squeeze and muttered "Run away."

Kurt wasn't fast enough- John yanked him out by his t-shirt collar and tossed him to the ground.

"You...you dirty fucking faggot," John kicked Kurt hard in the stomach. Blaine jumped out of the car and ran around.

"Dad, stop it!" He pulled his father back from where he was still kicking Kurt repeatedly in the stomach. John rounded on Blaine and wrapped his fingers around Blaine's throat.

"He infected you, didn't he?" John breathed heavily in Blaine's face. Blaine became dizzy from lack of oxygen and the smell of alcohol on John's breath. "He diseased you! I knew he was a fag the second you brought him in this house-"

Blaine brought his knee up and hit John right in the groin. He loosened his grip enough for Blaine to pry his fingers away and run over to Kurt, who was trying to stand up.

"Go, Kurt, please," Blaine was trying to help him up through the tears and tremors wracking his body.

"No," Kurt rasped. Jeanette ran outside, screaming when she saw John crawling toward Blaine. Blaine pushed Kurt toward his mother and turned, swinging his fists at his father's head to no avail. John pulled him down and straddled him, pinning his arms down to the grass below. Jeanette made a move toward them after ushering Kurt up onto the steps.

"Jen, if you take one more step, I'll end his miserable life," John whipped his hunting knife out of his back pocket, slowly raising it to Blaine's neck. Kurt jumped up with a growl, but Jeanette grabbed him around the chest with a muffled 'No, don't'.

"You pussy little son of a bitch," John hissed only loud enough for Blaine to hear and grazed the knife over Blaine's pulse. "You'd be better off dead, you know...you and your little fag boyfriend...I'd have no problem doing it myself...but remember this, Blainey boy," he leaned into Blaine's ear, "Don't even think about telling a soul about this or I'll slit Kurt's throat and make you watch...then I'll cut him into tiny little pieces and throw them in the river. No fag deserves any better..."

Blaine's throat was tight and anger and fear boiled in his chest. He wanted to fight back, but he was paralyzed with fear. John sat up, dropped the knife, and looked up at Jeanette.

"I'll go, Jen, but you just sit right there while I say my piece," John reared back and began ruthlessly beating Blaine across the face. Over and over he punched and Blaine was powerless. Kurt was scared to move with the knife sitting at Blaine's left ear and Jen was screaming bloody murder, hoping to alert someone, but in the dead of night, the small neighborhood was in a peaceful sleep.

Blaine went limp in John's hand and he dropped him unceremoniously to the ground, standing slowly and swaying slightly. He approached Kurt, gripping his collar tightly.

"You'll suffer soon enough, faggot...soon enough," he spit in Kurt's face and gathered his things, hopping into his car and backing out quickly before speeding down the dark street. Kurt found the feeling in his legs again and bolted toward where Blaine was lying on the grass, barely conscious.

"Blaine, honey, say something," Jeanette gripped his hand and shook him slightly. "Please..."

"Don't...Don't tell," Blaine choked out. Kurt cupped Blaine's bloody face and leaned a little closer.

"Don't tell what?"

"Wasn't...him," Blaine blacked out again and his head rolled back onto the ground.

"What did he tell you, Blaine?" Jeanette shook him again. "What did he say to you!"

"Mrs. Anderson, we need to get him to the hospital," Kurt stood, lifting Blaine into his arms with a little effort. "Open the door, I'll get him in the car."

She frantically followed his instructions and they gently lay Blaine in the back seat, careful to not bump his head on the door. As they drove down the road at lightning speed, Kurt reached across the seat and took Mrs. Anderson's hand.

"He got in a fight with a kid from school...that's the story."

Jeanette looked flabberghasted. "That's not-"

"He said don't tell and wasn't him...his dad told him not to tell. Obviously he said something to Blaine that really struck him and he should be the one to tell if he really wants to. Right now, we just need to get him help."

Jeanette looked defiant, but with one glance back at her son, she knew Kurt was right. Whatever John had said was between the two of them and with John on the run and Blaine unconscious, it wasn't their story to tell.

* * *

**EEsh I'm twisted**


	9. Chapter 9

**wtf is wrong with me! ok, so here's an update and i made progress on the chapter of Glee love I've been writing forever! Divorce, job loss and family deaths have prevented me from being on top of my game, but here I am! back in action!**

**veeeeeery sad chapter...the end of the teen years is coming soon. Then adulthood.**

* * *

Kurt let out a breath and leaned back against the plastic chair back in the waiting room. His ribs throbbed, making his face scrunch in a grimace. Jeanette was trying to keep her voice down as she argued with the woman behind the desk in the E.R. Blaine had been in the back for over an hour and though three nurses had already been at Kurt's side inquiring about his health and wellness, he waved them back toward the double doors. Blaine needed them more.

A doctor finally walked through the doors and asked for the Anderson party. Jeanette quickly appeared at the doctor's side.

"Where's my son?"

"He's in a room now. Before you two go back, I need to know what happened to him. He's beaten up pretty bad."

Kurt hobbled over before Jeanette could spill her guts. "We were hanging out with some friends. A couple of guys started messing with me and he jumped in to help...guess they won," Kurt tried to make it seem more harmless than it was. Jeanette crossed her arms looked past the doctor to the doors.

"Is that true, Mrs. Anderson?" The doctor looked to the distressed young woman.

"I...I wasn't there...Kurt brought him home and said we needed to bring him here...I believe him," she answered quietly. "I just want to see my son."

The doctor nodded. "I'll lead you back."

The room was at the end of the hall on the left. When they opened the door, Blaine was sitting up in the bed, hidden by a nurse who was wrapping his hand.

"Blaine, your friend and mother are here," the doctor announced and with a pat to Kurt's shoulder, smiled. "Stay out of fights from now on, ok, kid?"

Kurt just nodded and followed the doctor out with his eyes. The nurse placed some small scissors down on the sterile table and walked back over to the IV machine and Kurt gasped. Blaine's eyebrow was stitched, obviously torn off in the scuffle and sewed back on. Bruises and cuts covered his swollen face and his hands were destroyed, covered with clean white bandages tinged brown around the knuckles where the blood had seaped through.

"I'll leave you alone with him," the nurse smiled and shut the door behind her. The tension and silence in the room was buzzing around them until Jeanette cleared  
her throat.

"Are you ok, honey?"

Blaine, who had remained motionless, staring at the dark stain on his blanket, shrugged. "Sore." He looked up at Kurt, whose eyes were beginning to swell with tears. "Did he hurt you?"

Kurt fought back a sob and shook his head. "I'm ok. Don't worry about me."

Blaine sighed and lay his head back on his pillow. Jeanette collapsed into the plastic chair next to Blaine's bed and buried her head in her hands.

"I'm so sorry, baby...I should have ended this so long ago-"

"How did he find out, Mama," Blaine mumbled hoarsely, turning his head on his pillow to face her. She looked up at him, then to Kurt.

"He...he saw you two by the river tonight...he said I had been acting strangely and demanded I tell him what I knew...I'm so sorry, Blaine, he threw things and  
grabbed me-"

Jeanette blubbered until Blaine raised a bandaged hand to her face and gently cupped her cheek. "Mama...stop."

Jeanette's face crumpled and she lay her head at Blaine's hip on the bed. Though he was bandaged, his fingers were still movable and he twined them in her thick, brown curls, soothing her and shushing her gently.

"I'm ok, Mama. It's all gonna be ok."

"What did he say to you, Blaine? Why can't we tell them what really happened to you? He could go to jail and you'd be safe," Jeanette sat up, taking Blaine's hand carefully. Blaine glanced up at Kurt, seeing fear and curiosity in his eyes as well.

"I'm not gonna tell you...because it's not gonna happen. He's gone. And I won't let him hurt us again," he ran his fingers gently over her hand. "I promise I'll keep you and Kurt safe, Mama."

"What about you?" Kurt finally spoke up, his voice breaking. Blaine looked up at him with warm, sorrowful eyes and held out his free hand to Kurt, inviting him to sit on the edge of his bed. Kurt finally did so and took Blaine's hand.

"I'm fine as long as I have you," he mumbled into the skin of Kurt's knuckles as he kissed them gently. "Nothing can touch me."

Kurt choked and Blaine pulled him down to rest his head on his thigh. They sat like that all night, all three falling in and out of fitful sleeps.

* * *

Ella fussed over Blaine for the next three weeks, making sure he didn't get too hot and soak his stitches or stayed on the couch to rest up his aching, broken body.

"Damnit, Ella, I'm fine, I promise," he finally cracked after the third week while she fiddled with the pillows under his feet.

"You almost done healin', Mister Blaine, then you can Mister Kurt and galavant all y'all want," she winked at Kurt, who giggled from his seat on the floor by Blaine's head. Blaine rolled his eyes and twined his fingers with Kurt's again while Kurt read aloud from the book they had been studying at school. He came over every day to help Blaine catch up. His mother kept him home because she was sure there had to be some emotional damage done to him and that he wasn't ready for the kids at school to ask questions.

"I'm not gonna 'galavant', " Blaine said with an exagerated hand motion. "I'm just tired of you fussing over me."

A rumble of thunder outside startled all three of them.

"Lord, I hope your Mama gets back soon. That don't look too good," Ella looked out the window, seeing the dark, swirling clouds over the town.

"They said the tornado was moving north," Kurt glanced up from his book.

"Mmm, I don't know," Ella pulled back the curtains a little more. "It look too dark if you asks me..."

About that time a great flash of lightning brightened the room and the lights blew, followed by a deep roll of thunder and Ella scrambling away from the window.

"Boys, why don't y'all study in the hall closet. I'll get some flashlights and candles together," she shooed them up off the couch and Kurt helped Blaine down the hall to the closet. It was small, but the three of them could fit easily inside.

"Blaine...it's not really gonna be a tornado, is it?"

"Looks like it...I've only ever been in one, but I barely remember it," Blaine squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, thought, I've got you. You'll be safe. Ella knows what she's doing."

It was quiet in the tiny closet and they were beginning to get a little bored. Ella hadn't brought back the lights, so they couldn't study, so they began to gently exchange kisses in the dark, blindly searching for each other's cheeks or hands to grasp on to. After a while, a noise seperated them. It was almost like a distant train approaching them at breakneck speed.

"Kurt...hold on to me," Blaine fumbled around, looking for Kurt's shoulders.

"Wha-?"

"Do it," Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulders and pulled his head against his chest. The roaring grew louder then suddenly, the ceiling was gone. Kurt screamed as things flew around them, ungodly noises filling his ears. Blaine slid his hand over Kurt's ear and shrunk down against him tighter, shielding him from the debris tossing around them. Though it seemed like it lasted an eternity, moments later the world settled around them and Blaine and Kurt opened their eyes and looked around them.

The neighborhood was leveled. Across the street, Kurt's house was still semi-intact. From the rubble, Burt stumbled, coughing and shoving boards out of his way.

"Dad!" Kurt cried out and scrambled to his feet. Burt let out a relieved noise and ran to his son, gathering him in his arms and lifting him off the ground.

"You're ok...thank god," he mumbled against his neck. He put Kurt down and hugged Blaine as well. "We should probably try and help the others."

Blaine nodded, then froze. "Oh, god, Ella!"

Blaine turned and bolted back toward his house, screaming for his nanny, but getting no response. Kurt and Burt began shoving debris out of the way searching.

"Ella!" Blaine tripped and grappled over what used to be his kitchen, eyes darting around for any sign of movement.

"Blaine..." he heard Kurt gasp behind him. He turned and saw Kurt standing and staring down at the ground, his eyes welling up. There, beneath the old, busted kitchen table and back door, was Ella's hand peaking out from underneath.

"Help me get it off her," Blaine's voice shook and he and the other two men began trying to lift the broken wood off the woman. After many failed attempts and angry curse words, they finally moved the door and table and Ella lay, eyes open and still, dead on the ground. Blaine dropped to his knees beside her and took her still warm hand in his.

"Ella," he sobbed. Kurt knelt down beside him and cradled Blaine close to his chest. Burt took off his hat and blinked back some of his own tears, looking around and noticing more people coming out of their homes.

"I'm gonna go see if anyone needs help," he leaned down and patted Blaine's shoulder before turning and stepping over the wood towards the road. Kurt didn't care that there were others out and about now. All he cared about was comforting Blaine, who was sobbing against his chest and clutching at his old nanny's hand like a life line.

"Come on, let's move her out of this debris," Kurt muttered against Blaine's hair and kissed it gently before getting the boy to finally move. They lifted her with a bit of difficulty and carried her to the back yard where there was a clean patch of grass. Kurt closed her eyes and placed a hand over hers where it rested on her belly.

"It was obviously quick," he said to his boyfriend. "So she didn't suffer...right?"

Blaine sniffed and nodded. "Yeah...maybe we should go help your dad."

Kurt nodded and he and Blaine walked back toward the road, Blaine not looking back toward the body behind his house. His and Kurt's homes were the first on the neighborhood and along the street, they could see the others. Theirs got the worst of it, but other homes were shredded across the road and cars that were once parked along the sidewalk were now sideways in the street or gone all together. After a while, they gathered that Ella and four others on the block had died, 13 were injured and the others had walked away without so much as a scratch and a scare. After a while, Blaine began to worry about his mother. She hadn't come back from her bridge game yet and he hadn't heard anything about Rainey Street getting hit, so he didn't know if she was hurt or worse. Kurt walked up behind him later as  
the sun was trying to peak through the black clouds over the direction Blaine was looking- toward Rainey Street.

"Blaine...the police are looking for you."

Blaine furrowed his brow and turned around. Kurt's eyes were red and swollen, melting into deep sorrow when they met Blaine's.

"Why?"

Kurt shook his head and Blaine knew it wasn't good. He knew it was his mother. Blaine pushed past Kurt and ran toward the black and white patrol car parked sideways on the road where it was blocking traffic because of the fallen tree from the McKinley's yard.

"What happened, where is she!" he begged the officer talking to Burt. Burt slid his eyes closed and turned away.

"Are you Blaine Anderson?"

"Yes, yes, where is my mom?"

The officer sighed and took something out of his pocket- a golden locket much like the one his mother wore around her neck...one with his baby picture in it. When he was handed the locket, stained with blood, he knew she was gone.

"I'm very sorry, son," he placed a hand on Blaine's shoulder as the boy stared, stunned and lost, and the golden locket- at his baby picutre smiling back at him.

* * *

**so...Jeanette's dead...**


	10. Chapter 10

**sorry its been a while. another sweet, but sad chapter here for you.**

* * *

The last bit of dirt from Blaine's hand tumbled down into the hole over the cedar casket bearing his mother, skittering off the top and falling over the sides. His eyes ached from crying for the past week in his guest bed at Kurt's house and even though he didn't think he could cry anymore, he felt tears stinging his already raw eyes. Kurt stood back from the crowd with his dad in a pressed black suit and bowtie, trying not to look as though his heart was shattering into a million pieces over the hurt in Blaine's eyes. Blaine had been distant and quiet, settling for going to his room immediately after dinner after barely eating a thing and locking the door. He only answered Kurt with an 'I'm tired' when Kurt would knock and ask if he needed to talk.

Blaine stepped back a few steps, trying to pry his eyes away from the casket to no avail. He could feel eyes on him from all angles. He knew they knew about him and that they couldn't feel sorry for him. He was just paying his price for his life choices as they saw it.

"Shame," he heard an older woman behind him mutter and he knew she didn't mean his mother's death. He and Kurt hadn't been careful enough after the tornado. Kurt was only being there for him, he knew that, but that wasn't how it looked to others, he was sure. And his father...

Blaine slid his eyes closed and fought the sickness in his gut. He knew what was going to happen to him. His father and mother were still married...meaning he was going to live with him. That is, if anyone could find him.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and glance nervously over his shoulder.

"Easy, kid, it's just me," Burt mumbled to him, rubbing his shoulder. "Why don't we head back to the house? They're done here."

Blaine quickly turned on his heel and walked away from the grave. If he had glanced back for even a second, he would never leave. Kurt was standing by the truck, oblivious to the elderly couple staring him down just a couple of cars down. Blaine wanted so badly to just walk over, take the old woman's cane and beat them both senseless with it. They climbed in and drove out of the cemetery and back towards Kurt's. Burt was very quick about rebuilding the living area and kitchen that were destroyed in the tornado. He didn't want to have to stay in the church's family life center with the rest of the town. Burt helped them out of the truck and made sure to keep Blaine's line of vision away from the rubble that was his home across the street, as he did every time he could chance it.

They entered the house and Blaine walked up the stairs, stripping off his jacket as he went.

"Why don't you eat first, Blaine? It's been a while," Burt called to him before he made it up.

"I'm not hungry," Blaine tossed over his shoulder as he slipped his suspenders off each shoulder.

"Blaine," Kurt spoke up, his voice shaky and soft. "Please?"

Blaine stopped and leaned against the wall on the landing, not turning around to look at them. He knew he would break if he saw Kurt's face.

"I just want to be alone, Kurt..."

"You don't need to be," Kurt took a couple steps up the stairs, his hand resting on the banister. "Blaine, it's ok to be upset about this. We know you've been crying up in your room."

Blaine blinked away tears and shoved off the wall, taking the steps two at a time up then throwing his door open as he reached it. Kurt was right behind him, his long legs keeping him at a close distance behind him. Kurt caught the door before Blaine could slam it shut.

"Come on, Blaine-"

"You don't get it! It's not fair! We were finally happy!" Blaine exploded, chunking his jacket across the room and gripping at his curls with his shaking hands. "He was gone and things were getting back to normal! And on top of all that, now everyone knows!"

"Knows what, Blaine?" Kurt stepped forward, keeping the door open.

"About me...us...I feel eyes on me constantly...that day the tornado hit- we weren't being careful... fuck!" Blaine swore and kicked the chair behind the desk across the room, splintering the leg as it cracked against the wall. Kurt ran forward and grabbed him around the chest.

"Blaine, stop...just stop," Kurt shushed him, running his hand gently over his heart in a soothing circular motion. "I don't care anymore, Blaine...You needed me and I was there for you...I'm still here. You've done nothing but hold this in and it's gonna drive you crazy. Please talk to me...let me help you. That's what you're supposed to do when you love someone..."

Blaine's breathing eased slightly and his body relaxed, allowing Kurt to pull him close to his chest and rest his chin on his shoulder. After holding him for a moment,  
Kurt pulled Blaine over to his bed and lay them both down, Blaine half on top of Kurt with his nose buried in the crook of Kurt's neck.

"What if this is God's way of telling me that he's gonna get me back for being a fag?" Blaine mumbled into Kurt's throat. Kurt wrapped his arms tightly around Blaine's back.

"That's was an accident, Blaine. You couldn't control the weather."

"Yeah...now I'll probably have to go with my dad...God, I don't even want to think about that," Blaine sniffed and nuzzled further against Kurt.

"He won't get you without a fight," Kurt said protectively. Blaine let out a breath with Kurt and let the beating of Kurt's heart relax him. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he remembered something.

"Kurt...you said you loved me..."

Kurt rubbed Blaine's back. "Maybe I did."

Blaine looked up and saw a small smile on Kurt's face. He couldn't fight it- he returned it.

"Say it."

Kurt leaned up and captured Blaine's lips with his gently, sliding his fingers through Blaine's curls and reveling in the soft whimper that escaped Blaine's throat when he did it.

"I love you, Blaine," he mumbled against Blaine's lips.

"I love you, too, Kurt," he smiled and cupped the side of Kurt's face. "Always have, always will."

* * *

"I hereby grant full custody of Blaine Michael Anderson to his father, John William Anderson effective immediately. Case dismissed," the gavel set Blaine's future into motion and brought a sick wave througout his body.

John Anderson had been tracked down two days after Jeanette's funeral in Nashville where he was living with his brother. It took a little convincing but after a talk with his brother, he was suddenly very eager to take Blaine in.

John was clean cut and in a borrowed suit from his brother, grinning at his lawyer as he shook his hand. Blaine had fought tooth and nail, as did Burt and Kurt, for almost a month to keep Blaine from his father. No one believed the stories Blaine had told them, especially when John started talking, stating that Blaine was a very sick boy most of the time and seemed to have something wrong with him.

Something mentally wrong.

Something that made him like men.

On that basis, John was respected for taking his son in to rehabilitate him.

A week went by and Blaine never showed up to school. On friday night, Kurt ran down to Laramie Junction, a small trailer park near the edge of town where John had rented a small trailer for the time being and where Blaine now lived. Blaine didn't go to school anymore. He was immediatly pulled out when John stated to the school that he was insane and that he was to be home schooled. Kurt knew there was nothing wrong with Blaine and he missed him. He stumbled a little over the railroad tracks, but pulled himself together to jog the rest of the way down the dirt road surrounded by trailers. Near the end was John's El Camino and a single light shining through the room all the way at the end of the trailer.

Kurt gathered his breath and walked up to the window, taking a quiet peak inside to make sure he had the right room. There on the small mattress in the corner was Blaine reading a ratty copy of Leaves of Grass. It always amazed Kurt how smart Blaine was. He couldn't read Whitman, but Blaine devoured it. It only made Blaine's situation that much more tragic. Kurt sniffed and tapped on the screen of the window. Blaine looked up quickly, eyes darting around then toward the door to his room. Kurt tapped again and Blaine locked eyes with him through the seperation in the curtain. Warily, he walked over and slid the screen up.

"What are you doing?" Blaine whispered. "He'll kill me-"

"I needed to see you...I miss you," Kurt bit his lip. Blaine gave him a soft smile and reached out to card his fingers in Kurt's soft brown hair.

"I miss you, too...here, help me down," Blaine reached out and Kurt carefully manuvered while Blaine shimmied out of his window. He was dressed only in jean shorts and a tank top, bare feet and glasses.

"Sorry I look a mess," he blushed and wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist.

"You're beautiful as always," Kurt smiled and kissed Blaine's nose. "Let's go back there to the woods..."

Blaine nodded and led Kurt quietly through the dark behind the trailer and into a small cubby of trees. Once they were properly concealed, Blaine fell into Kurt's arms.

"I hate this," he sniffed into Kurt's t-shirt. "I want her back..."

"I know, Blaine..." Kurt soothed him and sat them slowly down in the leaves covering the ground. He pulled Blaine almost into his lap and leaned against a tree, cradeling Blaine almost like a child in his arms as the boy let it all go. Apparently when he and his father had gotten home, John laid it down for him. He was being sent away. He didn't say where or when, but it was innevitable that he would go and there was nothing Blaine could do. When he argued against his father, he struck him across the face and sent him to his room. That was where Kurt had found him.

Kurt's heart was breaking as Blaine tried to keep his sobs quiet and his confessions of fear and anger at a reasonable volume so that no one would hear them.

"I don't wanna go, Kurt," he cried weakly. "I don't even know where I'm going...he just said I'd be better there."

Kurt sighed and tried to swallow the large lump in his throat before answering him. "I don't want you to go either...what can I do?"

Blaine shook his head and sat up, wiping his eyes. "Nothing, Kurt...not without everyone finding out about us...and I won't do that to you."

Kurt shook his head as well. "I don't even care about that anymore, Blaine, I just want you here!"

Blaine cupped Kurt's cheek and kissed him, deep and slow. After a moment he pulled back.

"You still have to live here, Kurt...Once people find out the truth who knows what will happen to you...I can't let anyone hurt you especially if I'm not around to help you. You have to go on...I'm gonna find you again..."

Kurt had broken down into sobs, but Blaine took his lips against his again, throwing every ounce of comfort he could into it and gripping Kurt's neck to hold him close. Kurt pulled Blaine up to straddle his lap and wrapped his arms around his back, holding him there as if that simple gesture could keep Blaine in his arms for all eternity.

"Kurt," Blaine gasped. Kurt didn't pull away, only increasing his hold on Blaine and moving down his jaw to his neck, desperate to taste and kiss every inch he could reach.

"Kurt...please..."

"What is it?" Kurt asked breathlessly against his Adam's Apple where he was sucking and lapping at the skin.

"Would you...make love to me?"

Kurt stilled and looked up into Blaine's wet eyes, his own spilling tears over his cheeks. "Blaine..."

"I know we're young and this isn't right...what we're doing...but I can't go anywhere without it...without knowing you really loved me...in case-"

"Don't," Kurt gripped Blaine's collar and blinked away a fresh wave of tears. Blaine ran his thumb over Kurt's cheek to dissolve them.

"Please, Kurt..."

Kurt didn't question it further. He pulled Blaine further up on his lap, grinding his ass against his own half-hard erection and making them both sigh with pleasure

"I...I don't know how-"

"I-I do," Blaine stammered and pulled Kurt away from the tree to lie on the ground. Blaine stayed straddling his hip, lifting his t-shirt off over his head. Kurt couldn't help but run his hands up Blaine's stomach and chest, feeling the shaky muscles beneath his skin. Blaine was just as scared as he was.

Blaine leaned back down and kissed Kurt's lips while running his hand down Kurt's ribs toward his jeans, his gentle touch making Kurt's body quiver and twist beneath him. Kurt danced his fingertips over the bare skin of Blaine's back. Even in the heat of the night, goosebumps rose over Blaine's skin.

"That feels so good," Blaine whined against his mouth.

"I want to make you feel good," Kurt rolled them over and held himself over Blaine. Blaine reached up and pulled Kurt's t-shirt up and Kurt quickly pulled it off. It was the first time they had seen each other this way while they were being intimate.

"I've never noticed how gorgeous you were," Blaine leaned up and sucked at Kurt's neck. Kurt hissed and gripped Blaine's hip and ground down against him. He was still listening for noise from the trailer park, but the world was quiet. It was as if they were the only two awake in the whole town.

"God, Kurt, please," Blaine rested his forehead on Kurt's chest and bucked his hips. Kurt lay him back and started unbuttoning his jeans, then Blaine's. They shimmied out of them, leaving themselves bare before each other. Kurt stared down at the boy laying in the dirt and grass under him and wanted so badly to break down. Blaine was leaving him- tomorrow, the next day, next year he didn't know- and he would have right now to show him how much he really loved him. He didn't want to screw it up or hurt him.

"Kurt? What's wrong?" Blaine sat up, cupping Kurt's cheek. He didn't realize he had actually started to cry.

"Nothing, Blaine, I promise. You're just...you," he smiled. Blaine swiped a tear away from his cheek and kissed him deeply. He pulled Kurt down and their bare bodies met for the first time and they moaned against each other's lips.

"Tell me what to do," Kurt whispered in Blaine's ear. Blaine shivered and nodded.

"S-sit up," he stammered. Kurt got up on his knees and Blaine slid out from under him, getting on all fours. "I wanna suck your cock...is that ok?"

Kurt felt all the blood flood from his face. He had never seen Blaine in such a position before with such conviction in his eyes...such lust.

"Y-yeah."

Blaine licked his lips and took Kurt's cock in his hand, gently stroking and looking up to gauge Kurt's reaction. Kurt's eyes slid closed and a groan escaped his lips. With little warning, Blaine slid his lips around the head, letting the weight of it rest on his tongue. Both boys moaned at the sensation, neither having experienced anything like it in his life. Naturally, Kurt's hand slid through Blaine's curls, loose from their gel and curling around his fingers. Blaine breathed heavily through his nose and took Kurt further into his throat.

"Holy shit, Blaine, where'd you learn this?" Kurt whined.

Blaine simply looked up, his eyes shining, and winked before sliding them closed and bobbing his head along the shaft. Kurt gripped Blaine's hair harder and bucked his hips.

"Shit, sorry," he stammered, but Blaine pulled off.

"It's fine...I like it," Blaine said roughly and slid back onto Kurt. Dizzy with pleasure, Kurt slowly thrusted his hips, his cock sliding between Blaine's lips in a slow rhythm.

"Blaine...I'm not gonna make it," Kurt keened. Blaine pulled off and wiped his lower lip.

"H-how do I..." Kurt motioned between them.

Blaine pulled him down on top of him again and spread his legs, fitting Kurt between them.

"Put it in me," Blaine said shakily. Kurt was a little confused.

"In my ass," Blaine muttered. The thought should have disgusted Kurt, but he was intrigued. He leaned down and kissed Blaine deeply and positioned himself between his legs, his cock rubbing against Blaine's entrance and making him whimper.

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine fluttered his eyes open. "Always."

Kurt tried to keep from crying at Blaine's sincerity. "I love you, too."

Blaine wrapped his legs around Kurt's waist and Kurt manuvered his cock against Blaine and ever so slowly pushed forward. Blaine let out a slightly pained noise.

"Does it hurt?"

"Mmm, a little...keep going," Blaine said through gritted teeth, gripping Kurt's back tightly. Kurt leaned in to kiss Blaine while he slid in, hoping to distract him. Once he bottomed out, he stilled and felt salty tears against his lips.

"Blaine, what's wrong? We can stop-"

"No, no, it's not that," Blaine shook his head and sniffled. "It's just...people would look at this and say we were gonna burn in Hell or call us disgusting...but the way you make me feel right now," he reached up and cupped Kurt's cheek, "I don't feel disgusting...It's perfect."

A smile broke out over Kurt's face. "I feel pretty perfect right now, too."

Blaine blinked back tears and kissed Kurt again. "You can move now."

Kurt braced his hands on each side of Blaine's head and pulled out slowly then thrusted back in. It started slowly, sensuously. As the pain faded into pleasure, Blaine began to beg for more.

"Oh god, right there," Blaine's back arched. He reached back and gripped a root on the ground above his head as Kurt picked up his speed and held Blaine's hips tight.

"What does it feel like, Blaine? Tell me," Kurt grunted.

"Fuck, amazing," Blaine's eyes rolled back. Kurt slid his hand from Blaine's sweaty hip to his cock where it leaked on his stomach. Blaine bit his lip and fought back a loud moan, letting it rumble in his chest.

"I'm close, Blaine," Kurt warned.

"Wait," Blaine stilled his hand and sat up, turning them over to where he was straddling Kurt, Kurt's cock slipping deeper inside him. Blaine moaned in Kurt's ear and rolled his hips against him. Kurt thrusted as hard as he could, taking Blaine's cock back in his hand and pumping furiously.

"Blaine, fuck!" Kurt groaned and a wave of warm pleasure crashed over him as he came in Blaine. Blaine rolled his hips, milking Kurt's orgasm out of him while he himself came over Kurt's hand and stomach. They finally stilled, sweaty and spent. Kurt pulled slowly out of Blaine and helped him lie on the ground next to him. They didn't speak. They didn't have to. Blaine simply rested his head on Kurt's chest and listened to his rapid heartbeat, a natural lullabye.

He was shaken awake moments later by Kurt.

"Come on, Blaine, we can't sleep here," he giggled and kissed Blaine's curls. Blaine mumbled and rolled over on his back, wincing at the slight ache in his backside.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Kurt asked, biting his lip. Blaine smiled and leaned over to kiss Kurt passionately.

"It was worth it," he smiled against Kurt's lips and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Come stay with me tonight," Kurt cupped Blaine's cheek. "I'll have you back before your dad gets up."

Blaine bit his lip and sighed. "I don't want you to get hurt..."

"I don't care, Blaine," Kurt pushed Blaine's curls behind his ear. "Please..."

Blaine nodded. "Dad gets up at 8."

"I'll have you back by seven," Kurt winked and helped him up. They got dressed and tiptoed past the trailer and once they were out of the park, they ran, giggling and tripping, toward Kurt's.

They lay in bed, shirtless and bundled together, whispering and kissing, until the sky tinged pink. They both knew they didn't have very long left together, be it a week or a day or a year. They told each other every intimate detail, not missing a single memory or fear.

At seven, Kurt held Blaine tight in a hug outside Blaine's bedroom window, breathing him in and laying a kiss on his temple.

"I'll come see you later," Blaine mumbled into Kurt's collar bone. Kurt nodded and Blaine leaned back, looking into Kurt's eyes and giving him the softest, warmest smile he ever had. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Kurt smiled. Blaine turned and slid open his cracked window to climb in. Once it was closed, Kurt slipped his hands into his pockets and walked out of the park.

He didn't know Blaine's father had to be at work an hour early that morning.

He didn't know John had been sitting in Blaine's room for the past twenty minutes.

He didn't know he saw everything.

He also didn't know Blaine wouldn't be coming to see him that afternoon.


	11. Chapter 11

**This is a long, sad chapter. No happiness...yet...**

**I enjoyed writing this chapter and I have no idea why. It's pretty much the saddest part of the story and after this, we pick up in the future a little. The end of the teen years is now.**

* * *

Kurt bounded down the stairs late then next afternoon, bouncing with energy. The doorbell had rung and his dad called him downstairs to answer it.

Quinn Fabray was the last person he had expected to see at the door.

"Quinn? Hi, what's going on?" he leaned against the door, slightly deflated.

"Blaine said to give this to you. He forgot to before he left, I guess."

Kurt furrowed his brow and took the envelope marked 'Kurt' in his untidy handwriting. "Left?"

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, he moved...didn't you know?"

Kurt's heart constricted. It was too soon.

"Kurt?"

He didn't notice his eyes had begun to water or that his breath had begun to pick up pace.

"Kurt, what's wrong? Didn't you know he was going?" Quinn placed a hand on his chest to calm him down.

"I did," he nodded. "I didn't think it would be so soon...he just told me last night..."

"I was visiting my grandma at Laramie Junction when I saw them packing up Mr. Anderson's truck...Blaine looked like he was sore or something..."

Kurt blinked away tears and memories of the previous night flooded his senses. He tried to stem his tears but Blaine's last promise burned in his ears. A promise Blaine would never keep true to.

"Kurt, what's going on?" Quinn crossed her arms and tilted her head at him. Kurt let out a shaky breath and pulled Quinn into the house, shutting and locking the door.

"You're my friend, right? If I told you a secret that could get me killed you wouldn't tell anyone?" Kurt wiped his eyes off and led her to the couch quickly.

"Of course, Kurt...you know I would," she placed a hand over his. He took his time getting his breath and collecting his thoughts. Telling Quinn would just add another person to the list of people who knew and he wasn't sure about expanding that list...it was very limited, but it had already gotten him in trouble once.

"Quinn...Blaine and I...we aren't just best friends..." Kurt started out then stopped, seeing her brow furrow slightly. "Just please don't hate me..."

"Go on, Kurt," Quinn squeezed his hand. It was reassuring, but it didn't convince Kurt.

"You don't know what we've been through because of this, Quinn," he choked. "His own dad..."

"Tell me," she scooted forward, now starting to sound scared for him.

Kurt sniffed and pulled his hands from hers, running them through his thick, soft brown hair and trying to pull his thoughts back together. "You remember when we dated? I broke up with you because I said you just weren't the one for me?"

Quinn nodded. She had taken the break up hard at first, but they had mended their differences the next day. He thought it was because her mother had gotten onto her about how showing rage was ugly and not Christian-like, but either way, he was glad they were friends again.

"I broke up with you because I was feeling things...for Blaine...turned out he had feelings for me, too..."

Quinn's mouth fell open.

"We've been secretly dating for three months."

Quinn pulled her hands back as stood up. Kurt hopped up.

"Quinn, please don't tell anyone! You have no idea-"

"Kurt, that's horrible! It's an abomination against God!"

Kurt slid his eyes closed and bit his lip. He knew she would play the God card. Hell, it's Tennessee.

"I'm aware, Quinn...It's just...I can't help it...I can't help the way he makes me feel...but now he's gone with his dad who beat the shit out of him when he found out..."

"I heard you two got in a fight at the football field," Quinn questioned, her posture still tight.

"What were we supposed to say? His dad found out he was a fag and beat him within an inch of consciousness? Then there would be a fucking line outside his house and mine waiting for a turn to take a shot!" Kurt wasn't sure why he was yelling- his emotions were nuts and he just wanted someone to talk to who knew. Quinn's body relaxed a little and her face fell slightly.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to yell," he slumped down on the couch, resting his head in his hands. "I just can't believe he's gone... I thought we had more time..."

He was shaking with rage and sadness. Laying your heart bare to your ex-girlfriend could do that to a person, especially with such a big secret falling out onto the table.

A hand brushed through the back of his hair. He looked up and Quinn sat on the armrest of the chair.

"You really care about him, don't you?"

Kurt sniffed and nodded. "More than anything..."

Quinn sighed and leaned forward to hug Kurt, pulling him in tight and her warmth and comfort relaxed him a little.

"You're not gonna tell on me, are you?" he asked weakly.

"No," she shook her head. "I promise."

Kurt let out a choked sob of relief and Quinn held him while he cried, not just for the confession, but he had little to no explaination as to why Blaine was gone. He didn't know how to find out, but clutched in his hand was the note that would tell all. He would look later, but now Quinn shushed him and hugged him, rocking slightly to ease away the pain.

* * *

Kurt sat on his bed later that night after Quinn left with the note in his hand. Every line and curve of his name was burned into his retinas from staring at Blaine's handwriting on the front of the envelope. He wanted to read it, but knew he would break down again if he did.

Sucking it up, he slid his finger beneath the seal and opened the envelope. Two pages filled with Blaine's curvy, messy handwriting unfolded and he started to read:

_'Dearest Kurt,_

_I just got home from your house to find my father on my bed. He beat me with my lamp and said we were leaving when he got home from quitting his job. He broke my fucking leg. I don't have much time, but I'm going to tell you all that I can while I have the time._

_We are moving to Jackson, Mississippi. I'm to be put into Whitfield...an insane asylum...he thinks I'm crazy, Kurt. He said when I get out I'll be normal. I'm so scared I can't stand it._

_I don't know an address you can write to me and I doubt you will be able to, but I know that as soon as I can, I will. I don't want to leave you,_ _Kurt, so please don't think I'm running from you. I don't have a choice and now my leg is broken...I can't run away..._

_Last night was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced in my life and it was all because of you. You changed my life, Kurt, even from the time we were kids. When you moved in across the street, I knew you were going to be the most important thing in the world to me. I love you so much and I promise I will come back to you someday. Until then, I want you to promise me something- promise me that you will move on. You deserve to be loved and treasured because you are a precious gem. You are a rare breed, Kurt Hummel, and whoever you find who is worthy of loving you as much as I do should never, ever forget that._

_I have to go now. I hope I can get this to you. Quinn is here and I'm writing as fast as I can. I love you, baby, and I can't wait to find you again someday. I will survive this and you will, too._

_Love always, Blaine'_

Tear stains ran the ink along the bottom of the last page, dried because they were Blaine's. Kurt's fell and mingled with them, blotching the ink spelling Blaine's name. His shaking hands dropped the letter and he fell to his knees on the floor, gripping his stomach and sobbing hard at the pain shooting through his chest. Burt came bounding up the stairs and threw open Kurt's door.

"Son? What-"

"He's gone, dad," he choked out and Burt fell to his knees next to Kurt, gathering him into his strong arms and squeezing him tight.

"I know..."

"John's committing him...he thinks he's fucking crazy..."

"I know, son, but you know he's not," Burt hushed Kurt, stroking his hair out of his face. "He's gonna make it."

"I don't know if I can," Kurt answered weakly.

Burt held Kurt out at arm's length, fixing him with a determined look. "You will, Kurt. It's gonna hurt so bad for a while, but he's not dead. He's gonna come back to you. It's Blaine...he always does."

Kurt choked and buried his face in his dad's shoulder. Burt held his son close until he cried himself to sleep in his arms. He lifted Kurt into his arms like he had so many years before and placed him in his bed. After stripping off his shoes and pulling his blankets over him, he tiptoed to the door and flicked off the light.

"You're gonna be ok, son..." he sniffed before creeping the door closed.

* * *

**_Two Years Later- 1960_**

The draft got him.

It was the one thing Kurt dreaded most about turning 18 and it happened.

For the past two years since the draft had been talked about, he had tried to find any type of illness possible that he could use to throw himself out of the running, but he was perfectly healthy and well-able.

Finishing high school was great. He was top of his class and won money for college, though he wouldn't be able to use it now. Burt turned white as a ghost when the letter came for Kurt. He was to start training in less than a month and head off to Vietnam.

Everyone he knew had already gotten the call to duty- Finn Hudson was training, Noah Puckerman was in country, Sam Evans was heading out with Kurt since their birthdays were the same day...

Kurt sat on his back porch with a beer- his third of the evening- and a pen and paper in hand. Blaine had written him almost a year after he left and Kurt thought he was going to explode. He may have run around the house leaping into the air while his father stared at him in amusement.

Blaine had been committed into the Whitfield Institution under the pretence that he had the delusion that he was in love with men. He had been there almost a year when he finally found a way to sneak letters out to Kurt. He had been forbidden by the staff from writing his 'lover'.

Currently, Kurt was writing the third letter he had been able to get to Blaine. The first was responded to, but the other had yet to produce a response. It had been almost two months and Kurt was a little worried.

_'Dear Blaine,_

_The draft got me. I'm headed to Georgia here in about a month and won't be able to write much until I finish training. After that I'm headed to Vietnam. I'm scared shitless. I really wish you were here. I don't think they would take you, what with your crazy immune system. They are very picky. Dave Karofsky got rejected for being flatfooted. Apparently that matters._

_Anyway, I hope you are better than the last time I talked to you. Please don't ever scare me like that again. I couldn't sleep for days after you told me you wanted to kill yourself. I really hope you answer me this time. I know you are still alive...I can feel it._

_You'll never believe it. Dad is getting married! To Carol Hudson, of all people. Finn doesn't know yet, but I think he'll be excited. He's at Fort Benning right now. Also, Dad is running for state Senate. His odds are great. He really hopes to make a difference._

_I can't say what I really want to, not knowing who is getting these to you, but just know that I still feel the same as I did when you left. I miss you and hope you are doing well. Please write me back as soon as you can._

_Kurt'_

Kurt drained his beer and sealed his letter, scribbling the address to the mysterious person who takes Blaine his letters. He sticks a cigarette between his lips and lights it before standing up and walking down to the mailbox.

The house across the street, once a pile of wood and brick, had been rebuilt. A young couple with a little boy now live there. The mother was hanging clothes up on the clothesline in the side yard while the little boy, a blond haired, blue eyed six year old, was running around with a stick in his arms like a gun, shooting at birds and falling leaves. Kurt smiled at him and deposited his letter.

"Good morning, Mrs. Whitman," Kurt called across the street. The beautiful young woman smiled and waved.

"Hello, Kurt! Oh, wait!" she placed her blanket in the wicker basket and scurried to the sidewalk where Kurt met her. Mrs. Whitman was quite the gossip. She seemed to know everything about everyone- even people she had never met. She worked at a hair salon north of town.

"You'll never believe what I heard yesterday while I was working on Charla Waggoner," she didn't seem so much excited as she did disheartened. "You remember that Anderson boy? The one who lived over here?" she indicated the house behind her. Kurt's chest tightened, but he nodded.

"Well...he ran away from the asylum last week. One of his dad's friend's told Charla's husband that they went to give him his medication and his window was open and he was gone. They're looking for him, but they can't find him. Isn't that awful?"

Kurt's throat was closed up. He fought back hot tears when he nodded. "Yeah," he squeaked. "Awful."

"Mommy! I'm hungry!" The little boy cried from the porch.

"Coming, sweetie," she called back. "Well, I have to run. Talk to you later, Kurt," she sauntered toward the door, barking at the little boy to take off his muddy boots before walking in the house. Kurt was already half way to the door, hyperventilating.

Burt and Carol were eating lunch at the table when he stomped up the stairs.

"Kurt?"

"Did you know?" He turned quickly, almost growling. "Did you know he was missing?"

Burt's face fell. Carol looked between them, confused.

"You knew...why didn't you tell me?" he stepped down the stairs and approached his father with a swelled chest. He was ready to swing.

"Kurt...I didn't want you to worry-"

"Worry? His last letter said he was gonna kill himself and you think I wasn't worried enough already?" Kurt cried and kicked the chair Burt had been sitting in against the wall. Carol jumped up from her seat, fear and confusion in her eyes.

"Kurt, calm down!" Burt grabbed Kurt's shoulder and squeezed tightly, making his point. "You're freaking Carol out!"

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I'd like to know the same thing myself," Kurt's voice eased a little but still shook.

Burt sighed and led Kurt into the living room, throwing a look to Carol that said 'I'll explain later'.

"Sit down, Kurt," he indicated the couch.

"I'll stand, thanks," he clenched his fists. Burt shook his head.

"Fine. Last week, the asylum reported Blaine missing. The Mississippi police have been searching within fifty miles of the area around Jackson, but the only thing they've found was his hospital bracelet and his hospital clothes in a dumpster. There was blood all over his shirt and pants..."

Burt stopped and looked up at Kurt, his eyes sorrowful and wide. Kurt remained stoic.

"Go on," he trembled.

Burt sighed and scratched his bald head. "There were three bullet holes in the shirt..."

Kurt didn't realized his legs gave out and he slumped down on the couch. He was numb for almost ten seconds before he felt the pain in his chest flare up and the cry tear at his throat. Burt pulled Kurt close.

"I'm sorry, Kurt...I'm so sorry," he whispered in Kurt's ear. Carol peaked around the corner from the kitchen, her hand resting on her heart. She didn't know what had happened to make her future step-son fall apart so easily, but whatever it was, she felt for him.

"It's gonna be ok, son," Burt pulled back and took Kurt's face in his hands like he did when he was a little boy. Kurt's ears were pounding. He could hardly feel or hear or think.

Blaine was dead.

He would never keep his promise to him. He would never find him again.

"He promised," Kurt sobbed. "He promised."

"Ssh, I know, Kurt...things happen...they can't find his body. They're still looking."

Kurt finally found enough strength to push his father away and walk toward the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.

"Kurt? Where are you going?"

"I just...I just have to go..." he stammered and slammed the door behind him.

He drove quickly toward the river. It was the only place he could think of and he just wanted to be alone with his pain. He didn't want his dad telling him the details.

He pulled crookedly into a small patch of grass and stumbled out of the truck. The path was now overgrown, but he managed to climb over them and make his way down to the river front. He could almost hear the giggles to two little boys in the wind around him.

He reached the edge of the water and his mind's eye saw him standing on the edge of that very water front, nervous...

_"Come on, Kurt, it's not gonna bite," Blaine giggled and stripped off his socks and shoes._

_"It's dirty," Kurt scrunched his nose._

_"Nuh uh! It's fun!" Blaine walked to the edge and dipped his little toes in, wriggling them in the mud and squishing it between his toes. "Do it!"_

_Kurt sighed and stepped forward slightly, squeezing his eyes shut and wriggling his toes. He couldn't help but giggle at the slick, wet feeling of the grainy mud._

_"See? Told ya," Blaine grinned a snaggle-toothed grin and flicked water at Kurt's legs with his hands._

Kurt sucked in a harsh breath as he stuck his toes into the cold river water. He let the mud slide between his toes and the memory temporarily eased the pain in his heart. A small smile graced his face.

He turned around and saw the remains of their treehouse. Most of it was on the ground at the base of the tree, but the frame was still up. Kurt sifted through some of the rubble. They had managed to get most of the things out of it when they stopped going after the floor collapsed on them, but a scuffed up Mickey Mantle baseball card stuck out under a board.

Blaine loved baseball. He played for a year at McKinley High. Blaine treated his baseball cards like his babies and he couldn't believe that this one had escaped his clutches. Kurt picked it up and held it in his fingers. Placing a gentle kiss to it, he placed it in his shirt pocket and leaned against the tree.

Blaine was gone. It hurt to think about, but he couldn't do anything to fix it. He couldn't bring him back.

Blaine wouldn't want him to stand in the dark, staring at the glassy water debating on whether or not to simply walk out into it, sink beneath the surface and never come up. He wouldn't want him to hurt this way. If he could see him now, he would wrap his arms around Kurt's waist from behind, place a kiss at the base of his neck and say "It's ok, Kurt. I'm gonna be ok and so are you."

Kurt could almost hear it, feel the breath on the back of his neck. With that, he staggered forward off the tree and made his way back up toward the truck, climbed inside, and drove back home.

It was time to step forward.

* * *

**woo...**


	12. Chapter 12

**We have officially reached adulthood. Things happen kind of fast in this chapter, but I will be spanning the rest out. We are now in the year 1969, nine years after the end of the previous chapter. enjoy.**

**Also, and don't freak...I'm changing my penname. I'm not a soldier's girl any more (thank you, divorce :P) so I'm changing it. Not sure to what yet, but remember the name of the story and you'll be gucci :D lol.**

* * *

"There's my boy!"

Kurt stumbled under his father's weight. No matter how many push-ups he did, his father was always a brick house.

"Come on, Dad, your heart-" Kurt laughed.

"Screw it, my soldier's home," Burt put him down and held him at arm's length to get a good look at him. Kurt was a new man- filled out chest and arms, strong jaw and an air of pride and resiliance dancing around him. His soft, chestnut hair was tapered short and covered with a beret.

"God, Kurt...you're a man," Burt smiled, gripping the side of Kurt's neck with affection.

"Well, this man needs a beer," Kurt laughed. "You have any?"

"You know me well," Burt barked a laugh and led him into the kitchen while Kurt removed his beret.

"Almost three years without one takes it's toll," Kurt sat down at the table and let Burt slide a beer toward him. "How have you been, Dad?"

"'How have I been'? You come home from 'Nam after two and a half years and you ask how I've been?" Burt chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, what do you say after two and a half years?" Kurt laughed.

"How was it over there?"

Kurt stiffened a little and dug at the label on the bottle with his finger nail. "Hard. I saw stuff I never thought I would. Not something I really wanna talk about right now if that's ok."

Burt nodded and placed a hand on Kurt's arm. "I understand, kid."

"Do I hear Kurt?" a voice called from Burt's bedroom.

"He's home, Carole," Burt called. Carole made an excited noise and scurried into the room. She threw her arms around Kurt, who almost lifted her off the ground in a hug.

"My goodness, you've filled out," she laughed and felt of his arms through his uniform. "What on earth did they feed you?"

"MRE's and beans," he laughed. "Nothing special."

"Well, it's wonderful to have you home, sweetie. Finn and Rachel are gonna come by later and we're gonna cook. You became an uncle while you were gone, by the way," she smiled and rummaged through her purse to find a black and white photo of a beautiful little girl with straight brown hair perched on Finn's hip. It was obviously right after he had come home a few weeks before. They spent a lot of time in the same area and saw each other quite a bit in the past few years. Rachel Berry hadn't changed in the slightest since the last time he saw her at their wedding.

Kurt gave a small smile and nodded. "Can't wait. I wanna talk to you about something, Dad, if that's ok."

Burt nodded. "Of course, son," he handed him a beer and they stepped out back to the porch. Kurt sat on the rocking chair next to Burt.

"Dad...I wanna take a trip."

Burt furrowed his brow. "A trip?"

"I know I just got home and all...but I really wanna just go and get my head clear. I was thinking of driving west for a while. Just me and the Chevy."

Burt sighed and nodded. "It could be good for you. You know, I read about shell shock and all that...I'll take it into the shop and have it looked at tomorrow. It's been a while since it's been run."

"You never drove my truck?" Kurt smirked.

"It was yours, buddy," Burt shook his head. "But I did take it for a spin a couple of times-"

Kurt bellowed a laugh. "It's good to be back, pop."

Burt smiled and placed a hand on Kurt's uniformed shoulder. "It's good to have you back, son."

* * *

Kurt crossed the California line four days later, his eyes a little heavy, but his mind at ease. He had his uniform jacket on over a tight white t-shirt and loose jeans cuffed at the bottom over his Chuck Taylor's, feeling finally back in his own skin.

After crossing the San Fransisco line, he decided to stop for a rest. It had been a long two day drive and he wanted to be awake for the beach. A large crowd in a grassy field in front of a large stage caught his eye, however. There were flags and signs in abundance.

He stepped out of his car and walked with his fists in his pockets up to the back of the crowd to see what all the fuss was. The signs read things like 'Bring our boys home' and 'America is fueled by hate'. He had heard of the anti-war rallies before and knew that maybe he should have left his jacket in the car.

A man in a tye-dye shirt, looking to be in his mid-twenties, stood on the platform dangling dog tags in his hand.

"My brother died defending a country that stole him from us and threw him into Hell! We can't allow this to continue!"

The crowd went wild, agreeing and waving their signs. Kurt stood back from the crowd a little.

After a few more minutes of working up the crowd, he announced that a very talented young man was going to play them a song- the Beatles- in protest of the anger and hate fueling the war. The talented young man walked up the steps in tight jeans, a blue jean button down, and a brown vest. As he adjusted his guitar Kurt noticed he was barefoot. It wasn't the only thing Kurt noticed- his black curls were long, falling just at his eyebrows and over his ears and neck. It was very familiar and strange. The man didn't speak. He simply strummed his guitar and after a brief introduction, he began to sing.

_There's nothing you can do _

_That can't be done_

_Nothing you can sing _

_That can't be song_

Kurt had to hand it to him- the man was very talented. His voice was pure and strong, a hint of gruffness that made his skin tingle a little.

The crowd swayed along, singing the words with him. Kurt had briefly heard the song before, but music never really stuck with him long anymore. The man was very passionate about the words he was singing.

_All you need is love _

_All you need is love _

_All you need is love _

_Love_

_ Love is all you need_

It warmed Kurt's heart to hear the words sung. This was what he needed- it was why he drove to California. To get away from all the fighting and the anger and aggression. He felt very at peace listening to the man's words. As the man continued, he looked up over the crowd and his eyes met Kurt's.

Kurt's stomach wrenched harshly.

It couldn't be.

The man visibly had the same reaction Kurt did, a look of almost shock and disbelief on his face as he tried to continue to sing. Kurt's clear mind was now racing with questions. There was no way that could be him. He was dead. Shot three times. His body was never found.

The man finished the song and, with one last look at Kurt, exited the stage. Kurt moved slowly back around the crowd toward the back of the stage, seeing several people dressed in long skirts, tight jeans, shirtless, or a variation of each. They eyeballed Kurt as he walked by.

The man was placing his guitar into a case on the ground over to the side, his face etched in confusion.

For a moment, Kurt simply sat a watched him, trying to find any indication that it wasn't Blaine. Any feature he didn't remember or couldn't recognize, but there was none. He had those unbelievely big brown eyes, those glossy black curls, the child-like air of curiosity.

Kurt stepped forward, removing his hands from his pockets. "Excuse me."

The man looked up, mouth falling open slightly in surprise. "Oh, hi."

Kurt swallowed. "You're very good."

He shrugged. "I had a lot of time to learn. I've been away from home almost 10 years."

Kurt knelt down beside the man, knowing it was now or never. "Blaine?"

The man locked eyes with him, recognition and excitement dancing across his eyes. "Kurt."

* * *

"I knew it was you, you know," Blaine sat next to him on the grass later that night as the party raged on behind them. After they got over the initial shock, Blaine brought him to this party. There were vague sounds of moaning and laughter in the background, but Kurt was still in a daze at seeing Blaine- alive and well- that he didn't think about it much.

"It's been years, Blaine, how could you know for sure?"

"Your eyes still look the same," Blaine averted his eyes, running his rough hand through his hair.

Kurt swallowed hard and fiddled with a stray string on his uniform jacket. "So, how did you get away?"

Blaine didn't even have to ask what he meant. "When I got your letter after I wrote the first time...it really made me think about my life...I wanted to die so bad. I thought it would be the only way out because I knew after being there for only a week that I would never see you again," he sniffed and sighed a shaky sigh, pulling a small baggie and a pack of rolling papers from his shirt pocket. Kurt stared at his hands as he began crafting a joint. "So I got Jeb, the guy who was getting my letters to you, to distract the staff while I broke out and climbed down from my window. I almost broke my other leg jumping down, but I made it out...I met up with Jeb's brother and he said the only way to get out was to make it look like I'd been murdered," Blaine licked the paper and sealed the joint. He held it between his fingers, but didn't light it. "We shot three holes in my shirt, covered it in pig blood and tossed it in the dumpster. Stupid cops fell for it and they pronounced me dead. I hopped a train to throw them off the trail and came here...never left again. I was going to come back to Laramie after a while... but I feel safe here."

To hear it from Blaine himself- that he was still alive and not some cold body on the side of a road- was overwhelming and a relief.

"I didn't know what to do...I really thought you were gone forever," Kurt sniffed and stiffened, telling himself that he didn't cry- soldiers don't cry. Soldiers don't show fear.

"Well...here I am," Blaine smiled warmly and placed a hand on Kurt's arm. Again, Kurt stiffened. Blaine noticed and let go, looking a little afronted. "So, the bastards got you, too?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah...drafted when I was 18. It's ok, though...it's not as bad as it seems...well, except for 'Nam. I've done things I never thought I'd have to do..."

Blaine pursed his lips and stared over at the fire. "Yeah...I imagine. I won't hold it against you, though. I know you."

Kurt couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "I've changed quite a bit."

Blaine put down the bottle of beer he had been sipping on and turned slightly sideways to face Kurt. "How so, Private Hummel?"

"Sergant Hummel," Kurt smirked, "and if you must know I've gotten a lot more confident...stronger..."

Blaine quirked an eyebrow as he spoke as if unimpressed. Kurt noticed and cut himself off. "Well, what about you, Mr. Anderson?"

Blaine blanched and shifted, placing the joint between his lips. "Well, for one, I don't use my last name anymore...don't really have a need for it...and that's really about it." Blaine lit the joint and inhaled.

"Except that you do drugs?" Kurt winced at the herbal smell. Blaine blew out the smoke he had been holding in his lungs.

"Just this...nothing trippy or anything," Blaine held it out for him, but Kurt declined. Blaine shrugged and drew in another deep drag.

They sat as Blaine smoked his joint, listening to the sounds of the party around them starting to disband, the moans growing a little louder and the laughter dying away a bit. The fire in front of them had started turning to cinders and only brightened slightly when Blaine tossed the remains of his joint into it.

"So, how else have you changed, Kurt? If I remember right...we were very close once," Blaine leaned back against a knapsack behind him and folded his hands behind his head.

Kurt didn't forget...he just chose to pretend it didn't happen.

"Yeah...that was a long time ago..."

"Not really," Blaine answered simply. Kurt felt the pang in his chest that accompanied the memories of the two of them- kissing, panting, touching. Kurt shook his head and drew his knees up to his chest.

"I'm just gonna take a guess and say you changed your mind," Blaine sat up slowly, the drug starting to take effect and show in his eyes. "Decided being who you are was too hard, so you decided to be GI Joe."

Kurt shot a look his way. "I'm me, Blaine-"

"You're who everyone else would prefer you to be," Blaine's voice deepened a little, eyes narrowing. "I guess I was wrong...I didn't know who I saw in that crowd today...It sure wasn't the Kurt Hummel I remember."

"The Kurt Hummel you remember was a 16 year old boy...people change, Blaine, they grow up!"

Kurt was getting angry, seeing Blaine's relaxed state only making him angrier. Blaine let out a sigh and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"A swim," Blaine start stripping off his vest and unbuttoning his shirt.

"You're gonna accuse me of taking the easy road then go for a fucking swim?" Kurt stood up quickly, stumbling a little.

"Join me if you have more to say," Blaine flashed him a barely noticable grin and dropped his pants, standing completely bare before Kurt.

It was a shock, to say the least. Kurt hadn't thought about Blaine so vulnerable in years and now he was standing before him, naked and shameless. He was far more muscular than Kurt remembered and everything in Kurt screamed for him to look away. When he did, he craved it again.

"Well, come on, then," Blaine walked toward the small pond behind the house- or shed, if one wanted to be more presice- and sat on the edge, letting his toes touch the warm water. It rippled out from his feet and caused the moon's reflection to wave and glisten over his face. Kurt walked a little behind him, but paused immediately at the sight. His breath caught in his throat and the memories tried to find their way back to the front of his mind- ones by the river in Laramie, in the old treehouse they had built as kids...

Blaine turned around when he heard had stopped walking. "If you just came to stare, then I'm sorry...not much to look at," Blaine stood up and started to wade out into the water. At about waist deep, he turned around to Kurt.

"Are you coming or not?" he asked before falling back into the water with a splash and a playful smile. Kurt wanted to ignore him and run away while he wasn't looking, but a small smile crept over his face. Kurt sighed and stripped off his uniform jacket and t-shirt, his pale muscles glistening in the light of the moon. Blaine finally resurfaced and looked up, about to ask what was taking so long, but the beauty of the man standing on the bank threw his already addled mind into frenzy.

He got even more beautiful. Kurt was now broad and strong, muscled...

Blaine watched shamelessly as Kurt stripped off his jeans, leaving his boxers on as he waded out to meet Blaine in the water. Both didn't say anything at first, the air too thick around them for words to fit.

Kurt finally cleared his throat. "Well...here I am...happy now?"

Blaine swallowed and fought the urge to reach out and run his hands over Kurt's tight chest. "You could say that."

Kurt flicked water into Blaine's face and sank beneath the water. Blaine sputtered and spit for a second before realizing that Kurt was gone.

"Kurt?" he spun around, looking for the man. For a second, he really thought he had imagined Kurt, but he heard a laugh behind him and jumped.

"Drugs make you jumpy, you know?" Kurt smirked. Blaine leapt forward and Kurt dodged him, grabbing him by the arms and wrestling with him. Blaine laughed and wiggled away, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and slamming him into the water. When they both resurfaced, they were laughing, giggling uncontrolably like children.

"You're stronger than you look," Kurt caught his breath and ran his hands through his short hair. Blaine nodded, but his eyes lingered over Kurt's smile. He missed it so much. Kurt noticed him staring and wanted to let his inhibitions go. He had built up an immunity to feelings like this. After being in the Army, he discovered that he would be dead in an hour of showing feelings like this for another man, so he hid it away and tried to fix it.

"Blaine..." Kurt shook his head, backing away. Blaine followed him.

"You loved me, Kurt...you told me and showed me..."

"'Loved', Blaine...they said you were dead and I finally accepted it. I told you I had changed-"

Blaine looked away, his eyes welling slightly. "I know you haven't...you can't just change that."

"I've been doing a damn good job until now," Kurt growled. "I have a life now, Blaine...you aren't in it anymore..."

Blaine shook his head. "Fine...but I want you to do something."

Kurt sighed. "What?"

Blaine moved forward, gripped the back of Kurt's neck, and kissed him for the first time in almost 13 years, hard and deep. Kurt wanted to push him away, but he was frozen in surprise. Through the marijuana and beer, there was still that hint of Blaine that sparked something in his brain into a frenzy. As he was about to kiss back, Blaine pulled away, his eyes burning black with haze.

"I want you to think about that...remember what you told me and how you made love to me and then let me know if you truly don't love me anymore."

Blaine turned and waded back to the edge of the lake. Kurt watched in shock as he slid his jeans back on and turned back to him.

"You can go on your way if you want, Kurt...or you can meet me back here tomorrow night. Same time..." Blaine grabbed the rest of his clothes and headed back up the bank.

Kurt stared after him. He had trained himself to never look at a man in lust or love again. It would get him killed and he knew it. Finding Blaine after all these years, however, seemed to be doing something to the walls he had built up. He knew it would be only a matter of time before the walls buckled in on themselves and crumbled.

* * *

**I imagine this Blaine to resemble Darren's character on CSI- the hippie, of course :P don't know it, look it up. Name was Ruben...he was pretty.**

**Anyway, more soon!**


	13. Chapter 13

**This is a reeeeeally long chapter lol. I didn't anticipate it being this long, but it is how it is, yo...**

**More to come. About to start a new story. This one doesn't have toooo far to go until it's done, but yeah...hurr ya go.**

**be sure to follow me on tumblr. my url is imalittlecraycray**

* * *

Kurt stood at a payphone the next morning, massaging his neck where a crick had settled in from sleeping in his car on the outskirts of the park where he parked it. The phone was still ringing to his home back in Tennessee and he had no idea how exactly he was going to tell his father what was going on.

"_Hummel's,_" Carole answered.

"Hey, it's me. Is Dad around?"

"_Oh, Kurt, it's good to hear from you. We were worried. He's right here, sweetie, hold on_," the other line shifted a little and mumbled voices told him they were exchanging the phone.

"_Hey, soldier, how are you?_" Burt asked cheerfully over the phone.

"Fine, Dad...listen, I know I said I would be home in a few days...but something may have come up."

"_Is the truck ok?_"

"It's fine," Kurt shifted his weight and leaned against the phone box. "It's not the truck...I...Dad, I found Blaine."

There was silence on the other line. Kurt thought he may have lost the call, but then Burt cleared his throat.

"Kurt, Blaine's dead...he has been-"

"He faked his death and came here...he's a freakin' hippie."

Burt let out a laugh. "_Wow...I could actually see that_."

Kurt sighed and ran his fingers through his short hair. "It just brought back all these old feelings and I have no idea what to do anymore...I've fought so hard to not feel this way about anyone...like him."

"_Kurt, son, you know I love you no matter what, right?_" Burt asked. Kurt nodded, even though Burt couldn't see him. "_You know, you haven't been the same since Blaine left...you were so much happier when he was around..._"

"I gotta go," Kurt cut him off, not wanting to hear anymore. "Running out of time. I'll be home sometime soon, I promise. Bye," he hung up the phone and kicked the phone pole. He didn't want to be happy with a man. He wanted to be happy with a woman. That was how it was meant to be. Sitting down on the bench next to the phone pole, he recalled the night he decided it would be best to change his ways.

_Cold water shocked him as it poured from the spiggot in the wall. The communial showers in the bay never had warm water. It was Kurt's third week of training and it didn't seem to be going as badly as he thought it would._

_Three other men joined him in the shower and he stared at a chip in the linoleum wall. He knew better than to let his eyes travel._

_He didn't have to worry about that, however. Keaton, the boy next to him on the wall, did._

_"What the fuck, Keaton!? You're staring at Hummel's dick!"_

_Before Kurt could turn around to see what was going on, Campbell and Duval, two of his friends he had ended up losing in the war, had Keaton against the wall, hands on his throat. Kurt was speechless._

_"I knew you were a faggot, Keaton. You gonna rape Hummel in his sleep? Hm? Wanna suck his dick?" Duval punched Keaton hard in the stomach. Campbell gripped Keaton's arms behind his back and Duval went at him, fists pounding relentlessly into his face, chest, stomach..._

_The rest of the men ran into the bathroom, watching the two boys beating the now semi-conscious boy. Blood splattered against the wall and swirled into the drain, mixing with the water._

_"Want a shot, Hummel?" Duval turned to him with a twisted grin on his face. "He won't say nothin'," he added a kick to Keaton's groin for emphasis. Kurt stared at Keaton, bloody, bruised and only half-way aware of what was happening, but he still found Kurt's eyes and pleaded with him silently._

_Kurt knew this would hurt him as well as Keaton, but he remembered Blaine...he remembered being tortured by kids at school and knew that they would be nothing compared to the soldiers surrounding him if he didn't hit Keaton._

_With a deep breath, Kurt tensed, raised his fist, and struck Keaton hard across the temple, causing the boy's eyes to roll back in his head._

Kurt buried his head in his hands and fought the sick feeling in his stomach. How the hell could he do that? He knew Keaton's pain and knew how hard it was to be gay...

Thinking about Keaton only made things worse- not two days after that, Keaton went 'missing'. He was never seen again.

Kurt knew what had happened, but he didn't want to admit that people he was trained to trust with his life would kill an innocent young man simply because he was gay.

Looking around Kurt noticed the sun was drawing down in the sky and he was due to meet Blaine again by the pond. Hopefully, when he got there, his thoughts would slow down enough to talk to him.

* * *

Kurt made his way through the crowd of flower children around the campsite he recognized from the night before. Blaine wasn't anywhere in site, but the look in his eyes from the lake told Kurt that he wouldn't stand him up. Stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, he headed toward the woods.

"Hey, GI, you lookin' for Blaine?" a voice called from behind him. He turned to see a man in round glasses with only briefs on smoking from a pipe.

"Um...yeah," Kurt looked him up and down.

"I saw you with him last night, GI. He looked pretty smitten with ya," the man approached him. He also looked Kurt up and down. "And he has a right...you're fucking gorgeous."

Kurt backed away. "Look, just tell me where he is."

"By the pond, GI...with Warren..." The man exhaled his smoke in Kurt's face, making Kurt wrinkle his nose. "I guess he moved on...but I'm still available."

"I'm good, thanks," Kurt waved him off and rushed toward the woods to escape the man. The path wasn't lit quite as brightly as the night before due to the clouds in the sky over the moon. In the distance, he heard splashing and a bit of giggling. Once he reached a large oak near the edge of the water, he peaked around to see Blaine and Warren in the water.

Both men were naked, obviously high on some substance, and swimming around each other. They were talking in low voices.

"I don't think he's coming," Blaine said, his voice slurring a little.

"Aww, Blainey...it's ok...you've still got me," Warren stood and waded toward him. Blaine looked a little apprehensive.

"We tried that once, remember?"

"It's just fucking, baby," Warren pulled Blaine close. Both men hissed as their lower halves touched. Kurt couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable-not because it was two men, but because it was Blaine...

"N-no, Warren, I don-"

Warren leaned in a kissed Blaine hard and sloppy on the mouth. Kurt's face flushed with heat and he was about to charge from behind the tree when-

"Warren! Come on, man, we're lighting up again!"

The men broke apart and Blaine looked a little relieved that Warren's attention had been grabbed by another man.

"We'll talk later, handsome," Warren lapped at Blaine's agape mouth once more before climbing out of the water and walked, still naked, up the hill to the campsite. Kurt turned back to see Blaine closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

"That was interesting," Kurt finally stepped out from behind the tree. Blaine jumped and stumbled against the slick mud beneath his feet.

"Y-you saw?"

"I did...so, old fling?"

Blaine scoffed and walked up the embankment. Kurt averted his eyes as Blaine stepped out of the water and reached for his knit pants. "You could say that...I've not had a boyfriend since..."

"...Me?" Kurt glanced his way, but quickly away again. Blaine nodded.

"Figured you would shun that memory," Blaine straightened up and tied the string on his pants. "You can look now."

Kurt looked back toward Blaine and sighed. "Blaine...I loved you."

"I still love you," Blaine said simply, looking directly into Kurt's eyes. Kurt's stomach twisted in a strange way. A way it hadn't in years.

"I've changed so much...I've become a completely different person than the Kurt you remember."

Blaine stepped forward a little and studied his face. "Well...your hair is shorter...your jaw is a little stronger...you have some pretty killer muscles," Blaine squeezed Kurt's bicep, "I'd say you have."

"On the inside as well, Blaine," Kurt shook his head. "I've had to adapt to the new world I got thrown into...I've fought so hard to change...to protect myself."

"You've 'decided' to be straight?" Blaine said, almost with a smirk. Kurt exhaled sharply and shook his head.

"You don't get it-"

"You don't get it, Kurt...you can't change something like that...you can push it away all you want, but under it all, you still have those feelings and you always will."

Blaine sighed and lifted his arms toward Kurt. "Look at my arms...you see those white lines all over them? That was where they literally tried to shock me straight. My wrists have scars from where they tied me down to a bed in an insane asylum to shock me so many times I passed out...and I'm still gay..."

Kurt swallowed hard and studied the lines over Blaine's arms. He had never actually heard what they did to Blaine in the asylum. He had almost forgotten that Blaine's father had sent him in the first place.

"Just because you put on a uniform and go chase around some guerillas with a gun doesn't mean you have to be straight, Kurt," Blaine moved his hands from in front of Kurt to his shoulders. "You should always be you...I love you..."

Kurt's defensive instinct started to shrug Blaine's hands off his shoulders, but the feeling of Blaine's breath against his lips and the warmth of his hands pressing into his shoulders, Kurt stayed where he was.

"I know you still love me...you said always...it's still always, Kurt, and it will be until we die," Blaine slid closer. His hands slid to his neck and gripped gently. "I need always, Kurt...I've been promised it..."

Their lips brushed. Tingles shot down Kurt's spine and he leaned in, unable to stand it anymore. Suddenly-

"Get on the ground!"

"Fuck off, pigs!"

They jumped apart and heard rucous from the campsite.

"Oh shit," Blaine mumbled and grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling him up the bank toward the noise.

Between the police and the hippies, Kurt couldn't tell how the fight had started, but there were several people in handcuffs on the ground or screaming and holding their eyes as mace was sprayed in their direction. Warren was being dragged toward a police van.

"Shit," Blaine cursed again and ran toward the crowd.

"Blaine!" Kurt ran after him. Blaine grabbed the cop dragging Warren and punched him in the jaw.

"Blaine, stop!" Kurt grabbed him, but he was ripped away by another officer, who cuffed his hands behind his back. Blaine tried to fight off two officers who had him, but they cuffed him with a joint effort.

"Kurt, I'm sorry!" Blaine called to him as they hit him over the head with a baton and shoved him into the van. Kurt struggled and screamed at the officers, but the one holding him reared back and after a sharp blow to the head, he blacked out.

* * *

Waking up on the bench of a jail cell wasn't exactly how he thought his 'soul-searching get away' would go.

Kurt blinked rapidly, the pulsing pain in his head causing his vision to blur momentarily. The sound of rioting yells brought his attention to the front of the cell where several men were shaking the bars and cursing the police for locking them inside.

"Kurt? Are you ok?" he heard a voice and felt a hand on his arm. Blaine was on the floor beside him, his face bleeding from a gash above his eyebrow.

"Did they do that to you?"

Blaine wiped the blood off his face. "It happens...this is my third time. They won't hold us here too long. Maybe overnight."

Kurt slowly sat up, wobbling slightly. Blaine sat up next to him and braced him until he stablized.

"Why?"

"The protests...not everyone digs peace," he grumbled and stared after a guard who banged on the cell with his baton and shouted for quiet.

After a while, the rest of their cell mates calmed down a little and sat around, waiting it out. It seemed they were as used to being there as Blaine was. The jail was loud and busy throughout the night and it was hard to tell what time it was or how long they had been there.

"Are we gonna talk about earlier?" Blaine asked quietly, trying not to be overheard.

"Why?"

"You were about to kiss me...you were about to give in..."

Kurt tensed. "It happens sometimes."

Blaine groaned and shook his head. "You're not serious."

"Blaine, please...you don't understand what I've had to do...I don't like it, but it's kept me safe this far..." Kurt drew his knees up onto the bench and rested his elbows on them. "You would hate me...the new me."

"Then stop being the new you...you hate him, too, I can tell."

Kurt hadn't really thought about it. The new him was courageous, strong, determined...what was wrong with that? The new him also beat several men senseless, killed dozens of others, sabatoged people...

His gut churned unpleasantly.

"Alright, get out," an officer unlocked the cell and let the group go. They filed peacefully out of the jail, passing the officers with looks of hatred, ones that said it wouldn't be the last time they would see them. Blaine helped Kurt up and they walked out as well. Kurt didn't leave in the direction the others did- instead he walked toward the park where he had his car parked.

"Where are you going?" Blaine followed after him.

"I can't do this anymore, Blaine...I was doing just fine before I came here. I'm not proud of some of the things I've done, but I'm proud of the man I've become and I don't want to fuck it up."

"How could being with me fuck anything up?" Blaine's voice cracked, his eyes wide and wet. "I love you, Kurt Hummel. That's all that should ever matter. It shouldn't matter that I'm a man or that you are! What we had was special...at least I thought it was," he tapered off, walking over and leaning against the brick wall of the police station, wiping his eyes.

Kurt's throat tightened. How bad did he want this? To be honest, all he wanted was to run over, gather Blaine in his arms and tell him that it didn't matter...but that was the old Kurt- the gay Kurt.

But what was wrong with the old Kurt? The old Kurt was smart, shy, compassionate, witty...not a cold focused man like now.

"I understand, I guess," Blaine finally spoke up, pushing off the wall. He walked back over to Kurt. The sun was starting to rise slowly, tinging the world with a pale grayish-pink hue that made Blaine's soft, sweet features glow. Kurt's breath was momentarily taken and he saw the days when they were teenagers, lying on the bank of the river around the same time of morning before school, hiding away from the world and exchanging sweet, shy smiles and kisses.

"I want you to look into my eyes...just like you used to so long ago, and tell me you don't love me anymore. If you do, I'll take it and you can go back to Tennessee...back to your new life. You can find a nice girl, have a family, and forget all about me. I'll try my best to live the rest of my life knowing for a fact that you really don't want me anymore. It'll hurt, but I've handled much more," Blaine's eyes flashed with tears and ten years of hurt that Kurt had yet to even know about.

"Just get it over with," Blaine mumbled, glancing down at his feet, then back into Kurt's piercing blue eyes, tears falling down his cheeks. "It hurts enough already..."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't. He couldn't honestly look into the man's eyes and not love him. His heart hammered against his chest hard and his mind raced with memories that made his stomach swirl pleasantly- kissing, gripping, gasping, loving...and Kurt had never felt so sure about anything in his life. This was what it felt like to give in.

"I can't."

Blaine's eyes slid closed and he sniffed. He nodded and turned.

"I can't look at you and say I don't love you," Kurt's voice shook. Blaine stopped in his tracks, his shoulders rising and falling as he gasped for breath. "Because I still do."

Blaine turned back to Kurt, eyes searching for doubt, but it was as if he were seeing Kurt again for the first time- the Kurt he knew back in Laramie who showed him how to love.

"You mean it?" he asked, sounding a little desperate, but he couldn't help it. He was.

Kurt moved forward, gripped the back of Blaine's neck, and kissed him. Both men gasped a little at the publicness of the display and the abruptness at which it happened. Blaine reached up and cupped Kurt's face, his aching fingers finally touching what he had wanted for ten years. Kurt melted further into it and danced his tongue against Blaine's and a heat rose between the two of them. It had been far too long.

They slowly broke apart, breaths heavy and eyes glazed. Blaine's eyes danced between Kurt's and his lips.

"Yeah...I'm sure," Kurt's voice came out gruff and thin. Blaine grabbed his hand and led him behind the police station. There was a narrow alleyway between it and the building next to it and it was still dark enough to conceal them perfectly. Blaine pushed Kurt back against the wall and kissed him harshly. Kurt immediately wrapped his arms around Blaine's shoulders. It felt so familiar and safe there. The country they were in wasn't in a war at the moment, there weren't riots and protests in the streets around them... for the first time in so long, they were the only two in the world and it was a little overwhelming to Kurt, but he let go. He soaked it in and used it to pour years and years of hidden desire into a kiss.

Blaine slid his hands down Kurt's body and gripped his hips to pin them against the brick wall behind them and gently press his thigh between Kurt's legs. Kurt grunted and hooked his leg around Blaine's, grinding down at the same time Blaine pressed forward, meeting Blaine's erection through his loose pants.

"Jesus, Kurt," Blaine moaned and kissed down his stubbled jaw and throat, sucking on his Adam's Apple while he reached down to pull Kurt's leg around his waist. They were lost in sensation and heat, barely noticing the sun peeking up over a building in the distance. The area of the city they were in was still lazily moving around them, paying no mind to them.

"B-blaine, I-"

"Ungh, me too," Blaine whimpered and gripped Kurt's thigh hard as he grinded down hard once more and came with a muffled cry against Kurt's uniform jacket. He blindly reached into Kurt's pants, wrapping his hand around Kurt's cock and pumping him a few times before he was coming as well. Kurt dropped his head back and quietly groaned through it while Blaine peppered kisses over his neck and chin. After they both came down, they met each other's eyes again.

"Wow..." Kurt whispered, half at the intensity of the orgasm and half at the blazing look in Blaine's beautiful honey eyes.

"Yeah," Blaine smiled softly. "Sorry...I just...I've missed holding you...being with you..."

Kurt leaned in and kissed him softly. "I think I did, too."

Blaine smiled against his lips and took Kurt's hands in his. "So...now what?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't know...I can't stay here...I have a home in Laramie waiting on me, a job lined up at Dad's shop-"

"Burt still has the shop?" Blaine laughed. "Thought he was a politician."

Kurt smiled. "You remember Dad. All over the place. That shop is his baby. I'm gonna be running it for a while. He's in his third term now and won't be around for much longer before he heads back to Nashville."

Blaine sighed and nodded.

"Why don't you come with me?" Kurt asked.

Blaine's hands tensed in his and his jaw set. Kurt knew there were many memories attached to Laramie for Blaine- not many of them good. Laramie was where he lost his mother, his nanny, and his trust in his father, the man who was once his hero who had him institutionalized.

"I know it's scary, but Blaine...I found you again..." Kurt squeezed his hands. Blaine looked up at him and his eyes smiled even if he didn't.

"And if I'm going to be honest with myself again...I can't do it without you," Kurt leaned forward and rested his forehead against the curls covering Blaine's. Blaine sighed and closed his eyes.

"I'm...scared," Blaine admitted. It seemed to be a hard thing for him to say. Kurt let go of his hands and pulled him close. Blaine smelled like Earth. It was as if Kurt literally held the world in his arms and his heart swelled at the thought.

"I'll help you."

"Is my dad there?"

"I don't know. But if he is, I won't let him near you. You're a grown man now, Blaine. He can't touch you."

He felt Blaine straighten up a little at those words and he let him go. Blaine sniffed and held out his hand.

"Let's do it, then."

Saying goodbye to Blaine's friends back at the commune he was staying at was pretty tough. These people had literally picked Blaine up off the ground and embraced him, making him into the man he had become. After a tearful farewell, Blaine tossed his small bag into the truck bed with Kurt's duffel and climbed into the cab.

"Ready to go home?" Kurt asked, taking Blaine's hand across the bench seat. With a deep breath and a smile, Blaine nodded.

* * *

Kurt and Blaine stopped along the way in Santa Fé to rest. The trip would take a couple of days and they decided to get a room in a hotel and Kurt needed to call his father. Blaine looked around the room curiously for a moment before letting out a laugh.

"What?" Kurt asked, looking at the phone as he was about to dial out.

"It's just...I haven't actually stayed in a bed in about eight years...it's just kind of funny," he shrugged.

"You didn't sleep in a bed?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"I had an area in the barn I put some hay down on. It wasn't bad."

Kurt nodded. He knew about sleeping in adverse conditions. "I had to sleep against my battle buddy's back for six months. I know how that feels."

"Like sitting up?" Blaine sat on the bed, crossing his legs and leaning forward on his elbows.

"It rained a lot. Sometimes it flooded. We didn't want to drown in our sleep, so we slept sitting up against each other..." Kurt remembered the chilled water lapping against his legs and back and shuddered. That whole place gave him chills.

"Anyway, why don't you go shower and relax...I'm gonna call Dad and I need a little..."

"...Privacy, I get it," Blaine smiled and leaned it to kiss Kurt, but hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, I just didn't know if-"

Kurt leaned forward and kissed Blaine softly on the lips. "It's fine," he smiled. Blaine blushed and nodded before placing another kiss to Kurt's lips and walking from the bed to the small bathroom.

Kurt dialed the long distance extension and his dad's number and after a few rings, he picked up.

"Hey, Dad, it's me," Kurt fiddled with the phone cord, smiling to himself when he heard Blaine humming loudly in the shower.

"_Hey, kiddo! When you comin' back?_"

"Actually, I'm on my way back...and I'm not alone..." Kurt glanced back at the bathroom.

"_You're not?_"

Kurt shook his head. "No...I'm bringing Blaine back to Laramie."

Kurt didn't know what he expected his dad to say, but he didn't expect him to laugh.

"What?"

"_I didn't expect you to go to California and come back with Blaine, that's all,_" Burt laughed.

"Dad...it's not just me bringing him back," Kurt sat back against the headboard. "I tried to forget...you know...that we were together so long ago, but seeing him again-"

"_I understand, Kurt_," Burt said, a smile in his voice. "_I already told you I love you no matter what, right? I always kinda hoped that you two would find each other again...I liked that kid_."

Kurt laughed, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. "He's not a kid anymore..."

"_I'm sure. Well, kid, I'll see you guys when you get back. Be careful...on the drive back and in the b-_"

"Ok, Dad, love you too, bye," Kurt muttered and slammed the phone down, blushing furiously. He didn't need another sex talk from his father, this time about gay sex.

The bathroom door opened and steam poured out of the small room. Blaine stepped out with a towel tight around his waist and water dripping from his curls. He had his back to Kurt, wiping the condensation off the mirror and digging a toothbrush out of his small bag. Water was rolling down his neck, across his thick shoulder blades and over his spine, catching in the dimple above his ass, which was covered by the wet, white towel. Kurt didn't realize he was staring, mouth agape and watering slightly, until he heard Blaine turn the water on in the sink and start brushing his teeth.

Once he was done, Blaine sifted through his bag for pants and slipped them on with no underwear. Kurt didn't know why that made his erection stir in his lap, but it did.

After toweling off his damp hair, he tossed the towel onto the counter and turned to Kurt. He saw the bright blue eyes traveling his body slowly.

"Like what you see?" Blaine smirked. Kurt smiled and blushed, looking away. Blaine laughed and walked over to sit next to Kurt on the bed. Wordlessly, Kurt leaned into Blaine's shoulder and Blaine wrapped his arm around him, pulling him into his side. Blaine's skin was warm, damp and clean-smelling from the shower and Kurt couldn't help but bury his nose in the curls at the base of Blaine's neck and inhaling. Blaine shivered slightly at his exhale and goosebumps appeared on the warm skin.

"I missed you so much, Kurt," Blaine said softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere they had created.

"I missed you, too. I tried so hard to forget about us...today it all just came rushing back and now I had no idea what I was thinking. I was going to leave California and never go back...try and change myself enough to blend in."

Blaine turned his head and kissed Kurt's forehead. "I'm glad you didn't. If you had left...I don't think I could have gone on...not after seeing you and holding you again and you disappearing like that."

Kurt leaned up and turned, running a hand up Blaine's bare chest over to his heart. "Well then, I'm glad I didn't leave."

"Me, too," Blaine smiled and kissed Kurt again. It was slow, sweet and passionate. It slowly built into a desperate dance and Blaine pulled Kurt over into his lap. Blaine whimpered as Kurt rolled his hips down.

"I've been thinking about our last night together everyday since I left," Blaine squeezed Kurt's hips and said between kisses. "I've never experienced anything else like it."

"I can honestly say neither have I," Kurt smiled. "I've never been with anyone else."

Blaine bit his lip. "Does it bother you that I've been with other people?"

Kurt sighed. "I can't blame you...you didn't think you'd ever see me again...I couldn't be upset about that."

"I guess," Blaine stroked Kurt's hip with his thumb. "It's so good to hold you again."

"I forgot how nice this was," Kurt smiled and ran his hands up Blaine's chest to his face, cupping his now clean-shaven face and pulling him up for a kiss.

"We should get some sleep," Blaine mumbled after a moment, feeling himself grow hard again. He wanted so badly to lay Kurt down and make love to him again after all those years, but it should wait.

Kurt nodded and slid off Blaine's lap. He slipped off his t-shirt and dog tags, placing them on the nightstand and peeling his jeans off his legs.

He wore black briefs, which stood out perfectly against his stark white skin and Blaine couldn't help but flex his fingers. They ached to rake down his back and feel that silky expanse of back against his fingertips. Kurt blushed after he turned.

"Is this ok? I usually sleep in my underwear"

"It's fine," Blaine's voice came out squeaky. Kurt smiled and climbed into bed.

Blaine flicked off the light and turned on his side, reaching back to grab Kurt's arm and pull it around his waist. Kurt smiled against the back of Blaine's neck and kissed it.

"I almost don't want to go to sleep," Blaine mumbled into the darkness. Kurt made an affirmative noise, showing he was listening.

"I don't want to wake up back in the barn and this all just be a dream...it's happened before."

Kurt pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of Blaine's ear and whispered, "It's not...it won't happen again."

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand and snuggled closer into Kurt's front. "Don't ever lose me again..."

"Don't ever leave me again," Kurt whispered back. Holding each other tight, as if the other would slip away, they fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**blaine's coming hooooome! heehee**


	14. Chapter 14

**this will be the final chapter! I forgot to announce that the last time I posted lol sorry. But yeah, i cried like a fucking baby at the end...cotton candy sweet sadness and smut here.**

* * *

The Laramie Corp. Limits sign shined in the light of the mid afternoon and Blaine felt a mix of several different feelings- excitement, fear,  
anger, loss...

Kurt's hand slipped back into his from using his turn signal and his body relaxed a little. He would be fine. He was a man now, no matter what his father had said about him so many years before...he couldn't hurt him now.

They pulled into the old neighborhood and Blaine was thrown back into the past. Out of the corner of his eye he almost saw himself playing with Jacob and Benny, throwing a wiffle ball and laughing as he chased the ball. He could almost imagine Ella walking down the dirt street toward his home for work.

He hadn't thought about Ella in years. The thought made his heart heart, but a smile came over his face.

"What's up?" Kurt asked, glancing over at him.

"Just...remembering, I guess," Blaine shrugged. Kurt squeezed his hand and they pulled into a familiar driveway. Burt's beat up old pick up was in the driveway along with an Oldsmobile he didn't recognize.

"That's Carole's car...you know they got married?"

Blaine raised his brows. "No...I didn't..."

Kurt bit his lip. "That was after you disappeared...Finn's my brother now."

Blaine laughed. "Wow...that's a little weird."

Kurt blushed. "He doesn't know...but trust me, I'm over it. Living with him completely changed my thoughts about him."

The front door opened and Burt stepped out, looking only a few years older than Blaine remembered him. He stilled, meeting Blaine's eye as if seeing a ghost.

"Come on," Kurt patted his hand and opened the door. Blaine slowly stepped out into the sun and shut the door. Burt hugged Kurt and ruffled his short hair before looking to Blaine.

"Well, well, well...Blaine Anderson," he smiled. "You're a hippie now?"

Blaine let out a laugh and ducked his head. "Um...I guess."

Burt smirked and stuck out his hand. "Good to have you back from the dead."

Blaine sighed and shook his head. "About that-"

Burt waved his hand. "You're ok...that's what matters," he pulled Blaine into a hug. He had hugged Blaine before, but Blaine had never felt so at home.

They walked toward the house before Blaine remembered where he was. He turned to look across the street and saw it- his old home. There were some differences, but it was very eerily similar. A few children's toys sat around the yard and porch and a clothesline was set up in the front.

"There's a nice family living there...The Whitmans...they have a little boy," Kurt appeared behind him. Blaine stared longingly at the yard, wanting to simply walk into it, open the door and see his mother and Ella again. He knew it wasn't going to happen.

"I'm sure she'd let you in if you asked," Kurt placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Blaine blinked back tears.

"Not yet..."

Kurt nodded. "Come on...come meet my family."

* * *

Blaine sat on the edge of Kurt's bed, taking in the familiar room. It hadn't changed much, only a few medals that weren't there before and a couple of photographs that had been updated. He felt like he was home again. Kurt's room had been a refuge for him when he was younger and it felt that way again now as he took in the almost familiar smell of Kurt. Though he had grown, his scent never seemed to change.

Kurt shut his door softly and watched Blaine, whose eyes had slid closed, lost in a memory or feeling. Seeing Blaine back in his room was something Kurt never thought would happen and it made his stomach twist hotly. He quietly walked over and sat behind Blaine on the bed, running his hands up his shoulders and kneading at the tight muscles beneath Blaine's vest.

"Mmm," Blaine hummed and leaned his head forward against his chest. "That's nice."

"Take your shirt off...it'll feel better," Kurt leaned into his ear. Blaine groaned and started unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it and the vest off his shoulders. Kurt pulled him down toward the bed and Blaine got the hint, turning over on his stomach and sliding his arms under the pillow.

"You have a nice body, you know," Kurt slid his palms flat from Blaine's lower back to his shoulders, resuming his kneading. "You always did when we were younger, but now...you've filled out a lot..." Kurt stalled as Blaine's back muscles moved and twitched beneath his touch. It took all he had not to lean down and lap at the tight, dark skin. Blaine sighed and made an affirmative noise.

"I like your body too," he peaked out from where his face was buried in the pillow and winked at Kurt. "I have to say...you definitely filled out as well."

Kurt blushed "Thank the Army. MREs are nothing to mess with." His hands moved down Blaine's back, gently digging his fingers in and working the muscles loose. Blaine let out a soft moan as Kurt hit a certain spot.

"You're tense," Kurt giggled.

"I have a very attractive man straddling my ass and doing amazing things with his hands... you would be, too," Blaine earned a swat on the butt from Kurt, who leaned forward and placed a kiss to the birth mark on the middle of Blaine's shoulders. It was a light peck, but Blaine's body reacted with goosebumps and a shiver.

"Kurt," he mumbled, but Kurt sat back up and continued massaging Blaine's back, reaching the waistband of his jeans and working his thumbs underneath to massage the dimples above Blaine's ass. Blaine squirmed beneath him, short groans escaping his lips.

"I'm sorry...is this turning you on?" Kurt asked innocently, knowing exactly what he was doing and smirking at the sound of Blaine's huff.

"You tease," Blaine grumbled. Kurt leaned forward, arms bracing on each side of Blaine's head, and grinded into Blaine's ass with no warning. Blaine let out a moan while Kurt bit his back, wanting Blaine to suffer just a little.

"Fuck, Kurt," Blaine rolled his ass up against Kurt's clothed cock. Kurt slid his hands under the pillow and held down Blaine's wrists, slowly grinding back down and nipping at Blaine's ear.

"Feel good?" Kurt asked, his voice gruff and sexy.

"God, yes," Blaine huffed. "Kurt, please just do something-"

"I am, silly," Kurt rolled his hips down again. Blaine strained against Kurt's grip and finally got free, flipping Kurt onto his back and holding him down.

"Gotcha," Blaine growled and kissed Kurt hard on the mouth. Their tongues fought as Blaine hooked his leg beneath Kurt's calf to gain leverage and rut against his crotch. Kurt's breath came out breathless between the kisses and before long, he was the one begging.

Blaine let go of Kurt's hands and began quickly unbuttoning Kurt's shirt and spreading it open to run his hands over Kurt's abs and strong chest.

"You look delicious," Blaine breathed out and ran his tonuge up the muscular torso in his hands.

"Then eat me," Kurt giggled and rolled his hips up playfully. Blaine growled and thrusted back.

"Naked...do it," Blaine said dumbly and started pulling at Kurt's belt.

Kurt scoffed and gently pushed Blaine back and sat up to undress. Blaine slid his own jeans off and crawled back onto the bed and under the covers.

"You are too eager, doll," Kurt joined him and leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head.

"What, you're just gonna rile me up then relax naked?!" Blaine threw up his hands.

"Hmm...maybe if you can convince me it's worth it," Kurt looked up at Blaine from beneath his lashes, daring him. Blaine caught on and a sly grin crossed his face.

He leaned over and placed a kiss on Kurt's nose, making the soldier scrunch it up and giggle. Blaine made sure to keep his body away as he continued placing soft kisses over Kurt's cheeks and forehead, barely there to be counted. When he reached Kurt's lips, he slid his body over, his bare cock rubbing gently over Kurt's hip and making the pale man moan softly into Blaine's mouth.

"You wanna touch it?" Blaine joked, nipping at Kurt's bottom lip.

"Mmm...nah," he smirked. Blaine quirked an eyebrow and nuzzled Kurt's head to the side to suck on the soft skin behind his ear. He slid his leg over Kurt's thigh and let his cock slide over the dip in Kurt's hip, a sensitive area for him. His resolve almost fell, but he gripped the back of Blaine's curls to distract himself.

"This is entertaining," Kurt mumbled. Blaine chuckled and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"You're breaking...is it my mouth?" he dipped back down to suck at a dark spot he had made and thrusted his hips forward slowly again, making Kurt moan.

"Oooh...you like me dragging my cock on you," Blaine smirked. Kurt glared at him.

"My hips are sensative."

Blaine's smirk grew wider. "Thanks," he pulled the covers over his head and straddled Kurt's shins. Kurt had no idea what to think until something warm and wet was lapping at his hip bone. Blaine's cock rested against his leg, half hard and hot.

"Shit," Kurt reached beneath the covers and buried his hands in his lover's thick curls. Blaine curled his tongue against the bone on Kurt's hip and sucked at the soft tight flesh, making Kurt thrust up and cry out, his cock now hard and rubbing at Blaine's neck.

"I'm gonna take a guess and say that I've won," Blaine ran his tongue over the dark bruise he made.

"Just suck my cock, Blaine, please," Kurt stammered and twisted Blaine's curls. Blaine didn't waste time, sliding down the bed and taking Kurt half way down his throat. Kurt was trying to keep his voice down, but Blaine was doing something amazing with his tongue just above his balls and it was very hard to. Kurt had only ever done this once before in Vietnam with another soldier behind a FOB one night on guard duty, but he didn't make Kurt feel like his heart and his cock were about to explode simultaneously.

"God, you taste so good," Blaine growled beneath the sheets, pulling off Kurt and kissing up his thighs and hips again. "I want it in me."

Kurt's breath caught in his chest and he pulled back the sheets to look down at Blaine. His long black curls were messy and falling around his eyes, but Kurt could see them looking up into his, his lips wet and breath ragged.

"You do?"

Blaine bit his lower lip and nodded. "Yeah...make love to me, Kurt."

Kurt found his breath again and let out a shaky whine before pulling Blaine up for a hard, passionate kiss. Blaine ran his rough hands down Kurt's chest to his hips and rested a hand firmly on one. Kurt felt a million memories flashing across his mind- each containing a pair of boys kissing in the dark of his room, tenativly touching or giggling shyly, or exchanging secret smiles in school across the room. They had changed so much. Now, years later, they were finally about to show the other how much they love each other again. The years hadn't dissolved those feelings and wouldn't. They both knew it.

"Please, Kurt," Blaine breathed heavily against Kurt's lips. Kurt finally flipped them over to where he was hovering over Blaine and the night they first did this- many years before behind Blaine's father's house in the woods- came back and Blaine was a nervous 16 year old boy again.

"Look familiar?" Kurt smiled and Blaine let out a nervous laugh and nodded.

"I thought about that night so many times, Kurt...It's what got me through every night that I was on the run. There were times I just wanted to...to lie down on the side of the road and die, but you kept me going."

Kurt's eyes began to burn with tears. Blaine spoke while absently raking his hand through Kurt's short hair and rubbing his thumb gently over his ear. It was tender and sweet.

"I'm glad you didn't," Kurt choked and kissed Blaine's wrist, rolling his hips down and making Blaine hiss and grip his hair.

"Please, Kurt," Blaine leaned up and mouthed at Kurt's bottom lip. Kurt finally responded and kissed back hard, raking his fingers down Blaine's stomach toward his erection trapped between them and gave it a couple of gentle tugs before sucking two fingers into his mouth and wetting them.

Kurt slid his fingers down Blaine's quivering abs and past his balls to his entrance, eyes locking with Blaine's and noting the hint of nervousness he saw in them the first time they did this.

_"Would you...make love to me?"_

_Kurt stilled and looked up into Blaine's wet eyes, his own spilling tears over his cheeks. "Blaine..."_

_"I know we're young and this isn't right...what we're doing...but I can't go anywhere without it...without knowing you really loved me...in case-"_

_"Don't," Kurt gripped Blaine's collar and blinked away a fresh wave of tears. Blaine ran his thumb over Kurt's cheek to dissolve them._

_"Please, Kurt..."_

"Mmm, Kurt, please," Blaine thrusted up against his hand while he stared at him.

"Sorry," Kurt mumbled. "Got distracted," he smirked and placed a kiss on Blaine's lips and slid a finger inside him. Blaine moaned into Kurt's mouth and tightened a leg around Kurt's calf.

"Relax," Kurt whispered against Blaine's lips. "I wanna make you feel good."

Kurt slid his finger gently in and out of Blaine, asking silently if he was ready for a second and getting a shaky nod. When he did, he was met with Blaine kissing him deeply to stifle his moan as Kurt brushed over his prostate.

"Kurt, I'm ready, I want you so bad-"

Kurt's cock twitched at the desperation and love cracking Blaine's voice and pulled his fingers back. Wetting his palm, he brought it down to his cock and gave it a couple of tugs before settling between Blaine's legs.

"I love you, Blaine."

"I love you, too, Kurt," Blaine didn't hesitate, eyes tearing up. Kurt kissed him again, distracting him as he gently pushed forward. Blaine wrapped his legs around Kurt's waist and held him close, pulling him all the way in and causing them both to gasp out loud. Kurt waited a moment then looked down at Blaine, who had tears sliding down his face,

"You ok?"

_"Blaine, what's wrong? We can stop-"_

_"No, no, it's not that," Blaine shook his head and sniffled. "It's just...people would look at this and say we were gonna burn in Hell or call us disgusting...but the way you make me feel right now," he reached up and cupped Kurt's cheek, "I don't feel disgusting...It's-"_

"-Perfect," Blaine smiled dazedly and squeezed Kurt's neck. Kurt's heart swelled and he pulled out slowly then thrusted back in, setting a slow, gentle rhythm. Blaine's head fell back against Kurt's pillow, exposing his throat and Kurt couldn't help leaning down and sucking at a soft spot beneath his jaw.

"Oh, Kurt, feels so good," Blaine ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Kurt's head. Kurt growled and picked up his speed, sliding his arms under Blaine and gripping his shoulders. Blaine bit into Kurt's shoulder to hold back the cry he wanted to echo throughout the whole neighborhood to show them he didn't care what they thought of them- to show them that the man above him loved him more than anyone would ever know.

"Blaine, I'm-"

"Let go," Blaine moaned in Kurt's ear and slipped a hand between them to pump his own aching cock. In moments, Kurt cried out against Blaine's neck and came deep inside him. Blaine came between them and grappled at Kurt's back, making sure to keep the man close to him. They came down slowly, strung out on orgasm and pure love. Kurt pulled out and looked up at Blaine, who's eyes were heavy and bright, looking straight into his.

"Hi," Kurt smiled.

"Hi," Blaine returned it. Kurt crawled into the bed beside Blaine and curled into his side. They needed to clean up and sleep, but neither wanted to move. They cleaned up, but didn't sleep. They didn't want to close their eyes and wake up and have all of it be a dream. When they finally passed out mid morning, they woke up later that night staring into each others eyes. It wasn't a dream. They were there together again. Forever.

* * *

The final crack of the 21 gun salute echoed across the cold Tennessee air while a crowd sat or stood around a coffin. Blaine's stiff hands gripped a folded flag in his lap, his heart heavy with grief. Kurt had only been sick for a couple of months, but they were old. Kurt didn't stand a chance against cancer at 70 years old. Blaine's condition wasn't much better. After a stroke, he was left paralyzed from the chest down and slightly speech impaired. Their daughter Marcy had moved in with them to help out and when Kurt got sick, Malcolm, her twin brother, also moved in. Blaine was very thankful they were both their when Kurt finally passed away. He couldn't have handled it alone.

Marcy was going to sing. Blaine ached to do it himself, but with his speech impairment, he hadn't sung since his stroke even though Kurt asked him to a hundred times. It didn't matter how old they got, how many lines etched their faces, Kurt's dangerously blue eyes always tried to sway Blaine. He fought a smile at the memories.

"You ok, Pa?" Malcolm called him by his nickname. When he was a baby, he couldn't say papa, calling him pa. Blaine nodded stiffly and clutched the flag a little closer.

"Marcy's about to sing," he squeezed Blaine's shoulder and stood next to Blaine's wheelchair, sliding his hand around his shoulders and rubbing his back. Blaine hadn't said much at all since Kurt passed away and Malcolm was worried about his father's mental health. The times he did speak, it was only about a memory of Kurt. He was afraid his father was starting to develop dementia and with it would come more sleepless nights convincing the man that Malcolm's dad was dead.

Marcy walked up to the front of the crowd and stood at the head of Kurt's casket, wiping tears from her face. She was 36 but held a youthful air around her. She and Malcolm both had dark brown hair that curled on the ends. Blaine would never forget the day they actually got to take them home. They were two- it took two years to finally get custody of them after mother gave them up to the state. Kurt and Blaine picked them personally and fought for them tooth and nail until they finally got them. They cherished each and every tear they shed over the twins and the twins loved the two men with every inch of their heart.

"Thank you all for coming today," Marcy started, her voice a little shaky. "My Dad always loved a good party...he would be floored at the number of people who showed up."

A few in the crowd laughed and nodded. Blaine quirked a small smile.

"Today, I'm gonna be singing a song for my dad...He told me a story when we were kids. He told me about the first time he and Papa were alone in their new home. They were unpacking boxes and Papa went over and turned on the old radio...a song came on an oldies station and he took my Dad's hand and danced with him in the middle of the empty kitchen."

Blaine's memories of that night flooded back slowly. Kurt's bright smile and giggle into his shoulder as he dipped him to the old Billie Holiday song and sang the words softly into his ear. He proposed to Kurt then and though they waited years to actually marry due to legal reasons, at that moment he felt like he had a husband.

"I'm going to sing that song for him today because he told me it was one of his happiest memories. After all the pain my daddy went through at the end, I believe he needs a little happiness."

Marcy sniffed and the man at the piano started to play. The music flooded Blaine's ears and the memory became more vivid.

_"Blaine, we need to get this stuff put up before Dad and Carole come by tomorrow," Kurt fought a smile while Blaine turned the knob on the radio and adjusted the antennae._

_"Chill out, honey, we have all night," Blaine stuck his tongue between his teeth like he always did when he was concentrating. Kurt rolled his eyes and took more silverware out of the box to put into the drawer. He was stopped by a familiar piano trill_.

Marcy looked over to her papa, whose eyes were distant and lost in a memory, and began to sing.

I'll be seeing you

In all the old familar places

That this heart of mine embraces

All day and through

_"Come ooon, dance with me," Blaine begged, pulling Kurt's hands away from the box and directing him toward the empty floor._

_"God, Blaine," Kurt giggled. "You're like a little puppy with those eyes."_

_"Are they working?" Blaine wiggled his eyebrows and started swaying his hips slowly. Kurt sighed and slipped a hand into Blaine's, the other resting on his hip as he matched Blaine's sways._

In that small cafe

The park across the way

The children's carrousel

The chestnut trees

The wishing well

_Blaine twirled Kurt and slipped his arms around his front, continuing to sway with him. Though Kurt was just a little bit taller than he was, he made it work, resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder and singing softly into his ear. Kurt smiled softly and squeezed Blaine's hands._

I'll be seeing you

In every lovely summer's day

In everything that's light and gay

I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you in the morning sun

And when the night is new

I'll be looking at the moon

But I'll be seeing you

_Blaine dipped Kurt and brought out a sweet laugh, and in that moment, Blaine had never loved Kurt more in his life. The smile faded slowly from Kurt's face._

_"What's wrong, sweetie?"_

_"Marry me," Blaine asked, his heart hammering hard in his chest. Kurt's eyes widened._

_"Blaine...we can't-"_

_"We will...someday...the world is changing, Kurt...someday will be our turn and I want to be with you forever...as your husband."_

_Kurt's eyes teared up and he leaned back up, wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders._

_"Blaine Anderson...I will marry you."_

I'll be seeing you

In every lovely summer's day

In everything that's light and gay

I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you in the morning sun

And when the night is new

I'll be looking at the moon

But I'll be seeing you

Marcy ended the song with a shaky, tearful voice and the crowd clapped, but Blaine was still in his own mind. the memory faded into one of two little boys playing beside a river, then into shy glances at each other across the lunch table at school, then to wrapping his arms around his husband the day they finally were allowed to marry.

"Papa?" Malcolm rubbed Blaine's back again, pulling him from his memories and back to the present, where his husband was gone and tears were running down his lined cheeks. "It's over, Papa."

Blaine looked around slowly and saw the crowd dispursing and Marcy talking with the minister. Malcolm came around and knelt in front of him.

"Are you ok, Pa?"

Blaine sniffed and looked down at the flag in his hands. They were a stark contrast to the pristine flag folded into a triangle, old and bony.

"I'm fine, son," Blaine choked out and looked into Malcolm's eyes. It was impossible since Malcolm wasn't Kurt's, but the bright smile on his face was almost identical to his.

"Come on, let's go home. We have guests coming."

Blaine nodded and allowed Malcolm to push him a couple of feet before he stopped him.

"Take me over to the coffin," Blaine said and Malcolm complied. His knees bumped the cherrywood coffin right next to where he knew Kurt's head was inside it. Blaine placed his hand on it and stroked it with his thumb as he had done to Kurt's cheek many times in his life.

"Goodbye, honey," Blaine whispered and pulled himself forward to place a kiss to the side of the coffin. Malcolm wiped his eyes as Blaine leaned back and told him he was ready to go.

Blaine was wheeled up to the front door of his home but peaked behind his shoulder, looking back at the old home across the street- the house that was built over the remains of his childhood home, the yard where he met the love of his life.

"You alright, Pa?" Marcy asked as she saw where he was looking.

The ghost like memories played out in front of Blaine as two little boys played tag in the front of the house, laughing and tripping, holding each other as they lost their balance and tackled each other.

"Perfect," Blaine answered and offered a small smile, still clutching the flag tight in his hands


End file.
